


A fresh start

by JeSouhaite



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication is important so lots of talking...finally, F/M, Gen, Mentions of Howard and Ernie, armchair psychology, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22860613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeSouhaite/pseuds/JeSouhaite
Summary: Completely deflated and exhausted, all she could whisper was, “I just...I want a fresh start.”He did too.“I don’t.”But he didn’t deserve it.-------------Jimmy and Kim’s past, present and future. AU series 5+. Filling in some blanks (the real truth behind that 14k missing), answering some questions (what is up with the two divorces?), mentioning a few names but in the end this is all about Jimmy and Kim.
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman & Kim Wexler, Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Kim Wexler
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35





	1. Spousal Privilege

After another 12 hour shift ‘Gene’ walked to his car exhausted and ready for the day to finally end. _Just a few more days_ , he told himself when his whole body screamed for mercy after working non-stop for the last two weeks. It was the end of December and he was not about to call someone else in when all his holiday plans were to sit in front of the television and drink himself to sleep. _Business as usual_.

He was halfway into the driver’s seat when he noticed something on his windshield catching the artificial light of the parking lot. He had to blink a few times just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming; it was a Zafiro cork. Suddenly he was wide awake, his heart racing as he darted back out of his car and snatched the small trinket then sat back in again shutting his door with a loud bang.

He sat there, in the darkness of his car, trying to regain control of his breathing and stop himself from shaking whilst he held on tight to that small piece of his past. The tiny leaves were cutting into his palm as the old wounds on his heart reopened. Finally, he looked in his hand and noticed a folded post-it wrapped around the cork, held there by tape. Before he could reason with himself he opened it up and read the short message.

_Aksarben. Usual floor._

He was grateful that she didn’t just show up but gave him the option to meet her or ignore the message because at this very moment he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever she had to say or let her get involved in the mess that he’d made.

She stuck by him as he began his new _criminal_ lawyer career as Saul Goodman and why wouldn’t she, she was Kim: fiercely loyal and his biggest and only believer. She got that it was a persona, just like with the older clientele he had to put on a little show. Or at least that was what he felt was necessary, Kim had doubts but only spoke of them once and when he immediately shut her down she never mentioned them again. Other than a slightly raised eyebrow she made no comments on his new, colourful wardrobe either. When Francesca seemed hesitant to ditch the MVD again for his practice it was Kim who convinced the woman to give Jimmy another chance, telling the charming secretary that Kim would be involved in some of the day-to-day business. And that she was.

In the beginning Jimmy tried to hide stuff from her, not very keen on letting her destroy her career over stupid shit, but she was too good and too willing and it just felt a bit too much like they were finally partners in a twisted way. They pulled off a few sketchy stunts together each bringing them closer. Everything was going well as far as _he_ was concerned. Until the case of Granny Theft Auto.

It was yet another huge win for them, complete with a risky scam they ran on none other than Albuquerque’s finest. In the end the DA's office couldn’t do anything but drop the charges against Jimmy’s client Clementine, the 85-year-old little lady with an - alleged - penchant for boosting fast cars.

After furiously making out in the court house’s parking lot in the backseat of his new Caddy - _acquired_ by Clementine as payment - he drove them home practically bursting through the door then grabbing her again laying a bruising kiss on her lips before he went to retrieve some champagne from the fridge. He felt so elated, so alive, his steps full of swagger.

“I was thinking,” he started with his head inside the fridge. “Maybe we should get hitched, take advantage of spousal privilege. Just in case.”

Bottle in hand he turned expecting her to have already gotten the glasses only to notice her still standing in the middle of the living room, eyes wide in shock. When her surprise did not morph into joy but instead her face crumbled with pain, it hit him. She had touched him less and less these last months. It used to be his favourite thing about her: her fingers through his hair, her leg hooked with his as she was trying to fall asleep, her hand just simply resting on his thigh as they watched a movie. The sex was still there - maybe a bit more rare now - but the affection was completely gone.

_How could he'd been so blind?_

“I…” She took a deep, fortifying breath looking at the man in front of her from the shiny loafers to the too big, double-breasted suit, orange shirt and garish tie, and the mullet that he started growing along with a beer belly. And it wasn’t just the man in front of her she had trouble recognising. She had never imagined herself ending up as the woman she was today either. “I can’t go on pretending everything’s alright.”

“What are you talking about? We’re alright. You’re breaking bank at Schweikart, my practice’s really taking off.”

“Jimmy.” She faltered her voice trembling slightly as she asked, “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am,” he croaked, his heart not at all in it. Deep down he knew it was utterly stupid to lie to Kim. She was supposed to be the one person he could trust, but by now he found it was getting increasingly harder to stop at the end of the day. _Lies just made life so much better and smoother._

She didn’t contradict him, instead she just softly said, “I thought...Maybe we could do with a change of scenery. Leave Albuquerque behind. An old Law School friend of mine reached out a few weeks ago asking if I’d want to join him at ACLU in Los Angeles.” Her face became hopeful as she went on, “You could be Jimmy McGill agai--”

He immediately dismissed the idea, “Oh no, there’s no way I’d be able to get barred in California.”

“Maybe you could do something else,” she tentatively suggested.

He went from zero to 100 in a blink of an eye and sneered at her, “Ah, that’s it then? You think I’m not good enough to be your peer?”

Kim looked perplexed for a moment before she fired back, “Jimmy, you’ve been doing your level best at skirting with disbarment. Ever since Chuck---”

He cut her off, shouting over her, “Christ, not Chuck again. I told you, I don’t give a fuck about him.”

“Maybe you should. Before you let him destroy you.” _And us_ , Kim thought but at this point she was convinced he was so lost he had zero concern for himself, let alone her or their relationship. With a hint of contempt and lower voice she added, “Look at yourself, Jimmy. This isn’t you.”

“Maybe you never knew the real me.” She just shook her head and he was glad she didn’t call him on his bullshit because it was just that, bullshit. _Or was it?_ Was the man in the mailroom the real James McGill or was Chuck right and it was all just an act and this was real, the man he was meant to be? “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I am no longer hapless little Jimmy, the little schmuck in the mailroom that was good enough for a little stress release here and there---"

“What the---?” But she did not get a word in edgewise as he continued yelling over her.

“--Now that I don’t need saving all the time, that I’m standing on my own two feet and doing well you just don’t love me anymore... If you’ve ever loved me at all because you sure as shit never said it.”

“Don’t you dare...” she seethed.

He jabbed back immediately. “Oh, is this another thing we won’t talk about? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble keeping up with the ever increasing list of subjects I’m not allowed to discuss with you.”

Her anger evaporated as the guilt hit her. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many arguments she could have raised. Instead, she stood silent and felt a single tear roll down her left cheek as her emotions tore her apart from the inside.

That was it. The image of her, broken and hurting, because of him. He couldn’t do this to her anymore. He took her silence as an agreement that it was pointless to fight and ran a hand down his face letting out a long breath, his anger subsiding. “God, Kim, we used to talk so much, remember?”

Completely deflated and exhausted all she could whisper was, “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

“Me too.”

“I just...I want a fresh start.” He did too.

“I don’t.” But he didn’t deserve it.

Jimmy gave her a final look then walked past her, out of their flat. She had no idea how long she just stood there frozen, unable to move, mind gone blank, as if someone hit pause on the remote control of her life. Then suddenly it hit her, the enormity of this moment, that this was it. She was standing in an empty, silent flat; alone. That was her future, without him: lonely, quiet, boring. She turned, her feet quickly taking her to the door. With her hand on the handle she froze again. Because whilst the prospect of a life without Jimmy in it gnawed at her chest she realised she had pretty much been doing it for months by now as Saul became more and more of a feature in their everyday lives.

Her forehead came to rest on the door as she tried to think of a reason to open it. Slowly she let go.

If she had looked through the peephole she would have seen Jimmy standing in the hallway staring at the door. _Maybe California would fix things between them. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him._ His hand was on the doorhandle. _‘In the end, you're going to hurt everyone around you. You can't help it.’_ He let go.

A week later he helped her box up her apartment and drove her to the airport, wished her good luck and tried to ignore how her voice buckled as she said the same to him. He remembered sitting in his car in a trance afterwards. He knew he should have felt something, after all he had just lost the woman he was ready to marry, his best friend of fifteen years. Yet he felt nothing.

It was time to kick Saul Goodman into full gear. No more off switch, no more pretending, nothing left to lose. He started taking the dodgy clients, the ones that made him shake in his boots. The fear was good, it was another thing he found exhilarating, dealing with these people who were unpredictable, ticking time bombs. The danger that barged into his life along with them was _fun_. It made him feel even more alive whilst his heart shrivelled away in his chest. But who cared about that? A good lawyer did not need a heart.

And man, what a run he’d had.

_Was this why Kim was back? Was she hoping he was done being Saul? Was she going to ask him to give himself up? Did she think that would change things? Maybe she wanted to save him again, defend him in what would undoubtedly become a huge court case?_

_Fuck it_ , he thought to himself, _let’s find out._


	2. Smells like cinnamon

#### 1994

Jimmy had been sneaking into the law library at HHM for almost a year. At first it really was just about trying to keep up with Kim as her everyday conversations turned more and more into something that sounded very much like a foreign language to him. He knew she kept dumbing it down for him a lot but imagined that it must have been getting exceedingly annoying. And then he had that wild idea that ended him back in school finally getting his degree he hadn’t bothered finishing before. 

Jimmy was always careful about his visits, with an excuse at the ready should he be discovered by anyone. Today was different though. Today, he planned on spending a couple of hours in there. It being a Saturday night he presumed it was just him and the janitor staff around. He should have known better than to underestimate Kim’s terrible work-life balance.

Kim walked in on him sitting at one of the small booths part of the row of desks with dividers between them for quiet reading. Her eyes went wide in disbelief as he shot out of his seat and made a dash of trying to gather all his stuff but she was too curious and persistent for her own good. At first he lied saying he was fetching a book for Chuck.

“The Elements of Style? Isn’t that a book on effective writing?” She gave him that look, the one he just called _‘the lawyer look’_ , the one that screamed: _I know exactly what you are doing but will still make you admit it._

“Fine,” he capitulated dropping everything back on the table. “I’m writing an essay for my law school application. It’s only the University of American Sam--”

He couldn’t finish his confession because Kim practically barrelled into him, almost knocking him off his feet. She was giggling deliriously, probably partially due to lack of sleep, but he took all he could, holding her fast and enjoying the moment. A rare moment of happiness for her and a rare moment of appreciation for him.

“Jimmy, that’s fantastic!” She enthused once she was out of his arms. “Finally, I won’t be alone in my misery.”

“Gee, how nice of you.” She giggled a little, playfully hitting his shoulder, then on a whim pulled him close again.

Once she settled down a bit they sat down at the table sitting next to each other as she proceeded to interrogate him on his LSAT and his school choices. There was not a moment of judgement from her when he revealed the less than glamorous schools he had chosen. Soon they were excitedly chatting about the hopeful future of being associates working for HHM.

“Can you Imagine that?” Kim sighed dreamily.

“I can’t really. Earning that much money. It’s just...”

“Yeah, the money will be great. So will handing out your business cards...” He nodded in agreement, the prestige did sound good too. She continued to muse, “It’s a solid career choice. And you can definitely do it, Jimmy.” And man, when she looked at him like that he really could imagine he could. “I will help you of course.”

“No way, you are busy enough as it is--”

“It’s not optional, Jimmy. Not after _‘the great freak-out of 93’_.” Oh yes, how could he forgot about that? Only he remembered it as _‘Kim turning up on his doorstep in the middle of the night and be in tears within 30 seconds of sitting down on his bed’_. She told him she was thinking about leaving UNM. She was exhausted and felt like shit and it was all for nothing. HHM once again didn’t even consider her for summer associate because due to studying and working full-time, naturally, she couldn’t put in enough effort to stand out. Everyone told her that law school was a full-time-and-a-half occupation but it was not like she had the luxury of not having a job for years. He held her as she cried all her frustration out and then they talked all through the night about her options. Well, she talked, he offered a few observations here and there but she mostly talked herself out of quitting in the end.

Kim was tough as nails though. Him on the other hand... Dejectedly he looked away, took his pen in his hand and fiddled with it, as he muttered, “This might be the stupidest idea ever. I am not even half as smart as Chuck---”

“Stop it, Jimmy.” She placed a firm hand on his cheek to turn him towards her and look her in the eyes. “Remember what you’ve told me? Fuck them. Fuck everyone who’s ever told you that you are not smart enough, that it’s okay not to even try.”

“Difference is that you are actually intelligent.”

“Jimmy, you are too. Unfortunately, you are cursed with having Chuck as your brother.” That was a perspective he often forgot, so she kept reminding him. Struggling through law school she often told him to compare himself to him five years ago and that helped. It helped a lot.

Her thumb gave one final brush of his cheek then her hand dropped just as a smirk touched her lips. “And I hate to break it to you, but you’re neither blonde enough nor hot enough to be a gold digger so if you want to get rich it’s not like you have a choice.”

Jimmy laughed at that along with Kim and when they could finally breathe again he suggested adding that at the end of his essay. He proceeded to write it out on his notepad to Kim’s light-hearted protest. She tried to pull the paper from him but he guarded it as he wrote, their hands playfully swatting at each other. When he finished he turned the pad towards her. The last line simply said: _‘Kim Wexler, esq. & James McGill, esq.’_ She gave him an emotional smile in response then put her right hand on his left and gave it a gentle squeeze before she spoke, “Come on, your application won’t write itself.”

Kim sat with him that night, giving him feedback on his writing. And then she sat with him many nights afterwards.

#### 2010

He didn’t change, didn’t bother with his hair, to try to look better than the shell of the man he used to be. With what little confidence he had left he got out of his car and walked up to Kim who was leaning her back against the wall of the stairway. Her hair was let down, she was dressed in jeans and a warm winter coat.

“Hey,” Kim greeted him casually with a small smile as she gave him a sweeping look.

“Hey.” He went to lean against the wall next to her, side-to-side. He could do casual as well. Or at least he could pretend whilst his heart hammered away in his chest. Turning slightly towards her he noticed her eyes still roaming his face. He quickly looked away and muttered, “No smokes?”

“I’ve quit two years ago.” It felt so wrong, not knowing this fact about her. He wondered how else she had changed, how much of this woman was the Kim Wexler he used to know? He did follow her career as much as he could. He knew she had left the ACLU after a highly publicised case. She was the crème de la crème, landed an of counsel role at a mid-sized international firm. “They’ve found Ice Station Zebra. You are looking at at least three second degree felony charges, not to mention six third degree ones that will definitely stick. There was also a mention of a possible felony murder charge. And the DA is out for blood, Jimmy, she is unlikely to ever drop this.”

“Not that I don’t deserve what’s coming.” He often wondered what would have happened had Chuck not bailed him out and put him on this track. Maybe a little prison time would have helped him gain perspective and made him think twice about the spiral he went down on. Or more likely he would have just became a much smarter criminal, or even worse, end up like Craig Kettleman, getting caught up in a gang, adding untold number of years onto his sentence.

“Do you know where Pinkman is?” He shook his head and saw her quickly switching tactics in her head. Before she could ask another question he pushed off the wall and turned towards her.

“Kim. You cannot save my ass this time…” he trailed off as she moved to face him, reached in her coat pocket and pulled out an Irish passport. With a sigh he took it and looked through the pages noting the high quality work. It was aged appropriate to its print date and amongst the few stamps to countries around the Americas there was also an expertly forged L-1 Visa. It put his Panamanian passport to shame.

“Think of it as rehabilitation.”

“How very SoCal of you,” he retorted, the bitterness simmering inside him escaping momentarily. _Was this not what she'd ran away from? Why come down from the comforts of the moral high ground?_ “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you deserve a real fresh start and our justice system would strongly disagree with me on this one.” She looked away for a moment to one of the cars parked nearby. Jimmy followed her gaze and saw a tall, dark form sitting in there. “There will be people there to help you and someone to talk to.”

 _A shrink? What the hell would a shrink be good for?_ He thought immediately, his hand tightening around the passport as he looked towards his car. _Chuck killed himself whilst he was in the care of one. Howard tanked HHM under the watchful eye of a no doubt pricey prick._ He didn’t need a shrink, he needed his life back.

Kim saw it, the moment Jimmy made up his mind. This was usually the time when she retreated, when she just went silent and let her unspoken feelings slowly suffocate her.

“I still remember the day I fell in love with you.” When she deviated from their usual dance Jimmy was caught completely off-guard. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, searching. She had a fond smile on her face as she recalled the day. “Ernie came into work with a fever and proceeded to vomit all over the briefs we were working on. Of course Burt ran, never to be seen again.” She chuckled a little and his heart fluttered at the sound. “You-- you called the janitors then drove him to the ER. And you’ve stayed with him. Sat by his side until his mum made it back from Florida.”

He remembered the whole thing. Not because being by Ernie’s side was such a pivotal moment in his life but because when he went back to work on Monday and told Kim about it while they were having an early break in the parking garage she told him he was a good man, gave him a smile that temporarily wiped his mind and made him forget how to breathe and then leaned in and kissed him. It was the first but not even close to the last time she had kissed him out of the blue during their friendship. It never really went anywhere. Not that he wasn’t interested, but she was way out of his league so he just told himself not to even dream about it. Once in a while, when she looked at him with something in her eyes that made him feel warm inside, he entertained the idea of asking her out for real but he knew Chuck would disapprove of an interoffice relationship. So they stayed friends. Best friends. Very, very close best friends. With the occasional benefits.

“I really thought that we would be together till the end, pulling scams on the orderly in our retirement home.” She huffed a bittersweet laugh and then took a step closer to him - now in arms reach - making him look up at her again. “Jimmy, you’ve meant the world to me. And I’ve never told you that.”

His eyes welled up, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to speak but couldn’t. For the last three years he doubted she ever truly loved him and to hear her say these things now with such certainty. It was proving to be too much.

“I’ve never met a man as wonderful as you are. And somewhere along all the things unsaid, all the feelings ignored, I’ve stupidly lost sight of that. I just told myself that that was you. That I should just let you flourish, be yourself... That Chuck kept you down.” She looked away for a moment as regret painted her features grim. “Was it---Was doing all that crazy shit--was that the only way for you to feel anything?”

In one painful breath he felt like he had been holding for years he uttered, “Yeah.”

And it was on his tongue, the admission that Saul was also convenient, because Saul couldn’t hurt anyone, he was a douchebag and nobody loved a douchebag.

Her heart broke for him completely then. The fact that he knew, that he likely realised what was going on a while ago but by then he had no one around he could confide in, it was just too much to think about. “Jesus, Jimmy, I am so sorry---”

“Kim.” He spoke up before she could beat herself up more. “You weren’t exactly having the time of your life either.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. A broken sigh left her lips as she looked at him with shining eyes and he realised this was the first time he had acknowledged that she was hurting the whole time as well. His face crumbled in shame as he looked away from that gaze.

“No, I wasn’t,” she croaked. Then with conviction she stated, “But that’s not an excuse. If anything that just makes me an even bigger hypocrite.” She seemed to consider her next words before she spoke again. “Turns out unexpressed feelings can create so much tension that you disengage entirely. And I just---I’ve fucked up…” She trailed off taking a calming breath before her next sentence. “There’s a good chance they won’t find you here. My guys say your guy has done a good job. Good enough to let you evade law enforcement.” But that just meant he was still looking at spending the rest of his life here. “I cannot take any of it back. All that hurt. I just--there is a way to feel okay again, Jimmy. To find your peace.”

When she saw he was still hesitating her hand reached out to grab his empty one. Her thumb caressed the soft skin of the back of his hand as she spoke, “Jimmy.”

All of a sudden he felt like he was a drowning man that caught a glimpse of the surface. Their eyes met. _God, her eyes._ Slowly colours started to fade back into his life. First the blue of her eyes, then the now a bit faded blonde of her hair, white jumper and blue coat. Finally, her pink lips insisted, “You can do this.”

And it was that same look, the one she’d given him almost twenty years ago and it made his heart swell just like it did back then. _If Kim could do it, maybe I can too._

She gave his hand a last squeeze then let go. He looked back down at the maroon coloured passport with its golden letters.

“A fresh start,” he murmured opening it up to look at the last page. _Séamus Morgan McGill._

“A fresh start,” she echoed. With a nod he pocketed the passport.

Once again she surprised him by stepping even closer. Then one of her arms snaked its way under his puffy jacket whilst the other went around his neck. He hesitated for a moment, his mind absurdly scrambling trying to think of when was the last time he’s had any sort of intimate human contact. She squeezed him a bit and he knew she was about to pull back. Without thinking his arms circled her waist and eliminated the last inch of free space between them. She let out a small, strangled moan, the tension leaving her body as she sunk against him burying her face in his neck.

She was so warm and so achingly familiar. For the first time in years he felt his heart start beating fast not out of fear but something else, something better.

“Mmm, you smell like cinnamon,” she murmured into his neck. They both chuckled at that, their arms clinging to the other just a bit more desperately, trying to cherish this light-hearted moment amongst the sea of pain that surrounded them. Their happy tears mingling with sad ones.

When they reluctantly pulled apart her hands stopped on his cheeks, framing his face, thumbs softly caressing his skin. Slowly - giving him time -, she leaned forward touching her lips to his. It was a simple kiss, soft and gentle, more of a comfort than anything, the kind they used to share as just friends. Love was there in the whirlwind of emotions mixed within a lot of regret and some lingering anger.

After she pulled back slightly she gave him a broken but hopeful little smile and he felt his lips turn slightly upwards with a little difficulty, like the hinges on a rusty, old door. Her thumbs ran over his moustache and with affection she declared, “If you ever want me to kiss you again, you’ll get rid of this thing.”

That sentence stayed with him throughout the long flight to Europe. Could they really have a future? Or was this just a tantalising, bittersweet taste of the past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, we are going into the topic of mental health because it's my strong belief that Jimmy is chronically depressed with either really shitty coping skills or straight up (emotional) trauma from childhood. Risk seeking is one overlooked symptom of depression but for some people that rush of adrenaline is the only time the dullness fades away.


	3. Dear Chuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning: mentions of suicide**  
>  Nothing explicit. Just part of some discussion. (not Chuck)
> 
>  **Little lingo aid:**  
>  Hardegat - South African (Afrikaans) slang for someone stubborn.  
> CMU - Communications Management Unit - A 'lovely' part of the American prison system.  
> 

#### 1981

Jimmy walked into his father’s store in a dark mood. He could hear his mother yelling at what he was sure was his father in her office at the back.

“---I don’t understand why you have to be so pigheaded about this, Charles. You know they will just get them from Martin down the road anyhow. Why not save them the hike and make some money whilst you’re at it?”

Being more or less completely immune to how his parents seemed to have been communicating lately Jimmy didn’t even bother to wait outside or knock, just barged in the office.

“Jimmy, hey there, fella. How was school?” his father inquired in a put on cheerful voice awkwardly patting him on the back. Jimmy completely ignored him and only greeted his mother who gave a sharp nod to Charles Sr. motioning to him to leave which he did without a word.

With the two of them alone now Ruth pulled out a piece of paper from the piling unpaid bills. It had been peaking out of the somewhat neatly organised pile, turned face down as if it was hastily stuffed under there before. Jimmy didn’t pay any mind to it just like all the other bills. They’ve been piling up for years now; his father’s dream crumbling in front of their very eyes.

“What is it, Jimmy?” His mother asked with a weary sigh her eyes still on the invoice from the University of Pennsylvania.

“Ma, I…” He stumbled. Ruth’s sharp eyes snapped up to his and that look made him collect himself and blurt out, “Shannon says she’s pregnant.”

“Oh, you dumb dá,” His mother groaned but didn’t seem surprised or angry at all. As if she had just expected him to mess up. “Right. You’ll of course need to marry her.”

“Must I?” Jimmy whined. “I don’t love that broad. It was one stupid night. You know I’m with Aisling now. I love her.”

“I don’t care, son. You are not letting _my grandchild_ grow up without a father.”

“But---”

“Go, fetch your grandmother’s ring and ask that girl to marry you.” Jimmy sulked silently staring at the floor, shifting from one foot to the other, trying to think up a way to get out of this, a solution his mother would approve of. “Today!”

With a huff of annoyance he practically stomped his way out of the office bumping right into Mr O'Sullivan, the man who liked to think he ran this part of Cicero. This mainly meant giving out _‘no-questions-asked’_ loans that he then had no trouble extorting back with a hefty interest. “Where ya runnin’, boyo?”

“Out,” Jimmy mumbled and moved to step around the tall ginger man but was stopped by his large hand.

“Hey, is it true you’re dating the Murphy girl? What’s her name, you know the pretty one? Aisling, right?” Jimmy simply nodded disgusted by the question. The man was in his forties and had no business being interested in barely 18-year-old girls like Aisling. Worst of all Aisling said she didn’t mind it, that it was harmless and it made her feel good being treated like an adult. “Give her my love, will ya?”

“Come on in, Chester!” Jimmy heard his mother exclaim. He could finally push passed the guy and fly out the door still hearing how O’Sullivan cheerfully greeted his mother.

“Ah, Mrs McGill! You are looking lovely as ever. Tell me you have a pot brewing in here.”

#### 2011

It was barely past 6am, way too bright and early on a Saturday morning for Jimmy to be up, let alone already be ‘voluntarily’ outside planting hedges on the large estate he had now called home for close to four months.

“So, why not a teacher?” Lilian asked as she handed him a spade to start digging out the spot for the first plant to go in. Gardening at the crack of dawn was one thing but when it came with a side of reflection Jimmy got especially cranky. Not that that made the owner of these grounds any less chatty. He briefly contemplated digging a large enough hole to dispose of her but she was an especially tall woman which would have meant a lot of digging. Not to mention he was convinced she would just claw her way out and then insist on talking about it for five hours. As ever, instead, he took a deep breath and went along with the conversation. Although he still called it an interrogation to her face.

Today’s subject: _‘What did you want to be when you were little?’_. Apparently, _‘nothing’_ was not a sufficient enough answer because the last half an hour he felt like he was back in the office of his guidance counsellor. Only Lilian sounded a lot more like the Queen of England which made being short with her almost impossible. _Almost._

“Don’t really like kids.”

Lilian nodded as if to say _‘fair enough’_ , then as she walked off to the next spot a few steps away to start digging the next hole, she barrelled on. “Doctor?”

Jimmy huffed a small laugh, _yeah right, Dr. McGill_. Briefly, he wondered how he would have messed that one up. “I’ve barely made it through law school.”

“How about advertising?”

His spade hit the ground with enough force he had trouble lifting it afterwards. He decided half an hour was a polite enough length to humour someone so whilst he struggled with the spade he snapped at her, “I suppose when you don’t grow up in generational wealth you are less aware of your abundant career choices.”

Steel freed from the earth Jimmy stared at the dark hole he dug. _Why was he so angry? And was he really pissed at Lilian?_ Quickly weighing the contributing factors and his feelings that, upon reflection, looked much more like regret masquerading as anger he decided an apology was in order but when he looked up Lilian was silently chuckling to herself. What was better she seemingly decided to drop the subject and work instead. He cherished silence these days. All these crazy people he was surrounded by lately seemed to love to talk his ear off asking questions about him constantly.

When he was ready digging his hole he used the garden fork to loosen up the compacted ground. Turning around he saw Lilian finishing up with her spade as well so he threw the fork to her whilst he went to pick up one of the plants to lay from the wheelbarrow.

Turned out she was not done digging just yet.“What did your parents do?”

“They owned a small corner store.” He hoped that his stilted movements and the slightly aggressive way he was laying his hedge did not give away his feelings that came barging into his heart at the mention of his folks.

Lilian was gently pushing the soil back around her plant as she prodded on, “Retail, huh? Have you---?”

Like a thunder during a clear sky, the words cracked out of him. “No fucking way I’ll end up like my dad.”

“Right.” He knew that tone quite well by now. It lacked any judgement or mocking, sounded completely dry and flat and yet impacted harder than being called on your bullshit. A British art form that one word was.

Without prompting Jimmy reached into his back pocket and got his tiny notepad out to jot this little outburst down. Lilian let him cool down a bit as they moved on to the next two spots. Spade in the ground she thoughtfully mused, “You know, your underlings at Cinnabon only had good things to say about you.”

Jimmy sighed dejectedly. He hated to admit that despite the less than ideal circumstances he actually did enjoy that job. The simplicity of it, the routine and the fact that his brain had a very hard time coming up with any sort of scam one could run as a Cinnabon manager. And he did try and come up with a few during the occasional lulls.

“My dad ran that store into the ground. He had a great opportunity, coulda made a lot of money. But he kept giving it away to grifters along with his stock.”

He got an emotional curveball he should have anticipated by now. “Did that make him happy?”

“What?”

“Giving away stuff. Helping people. Do you know if it made your father feel good?”

“I---” He was completely flabbergasted. It wasn’t as if this perspective was so out there and yet he never thought about it. _Why?_

“I’ve heard somewhere that some people just enjoy being good to others.” Her tone was light, her point rather sharp. “And there must have been a few genuine people in need your oul fella had helped out. For some, that’s worth it.”

“Not to me,” he mumbled but the genie was out of the bottle. He realised that what he had said were just words practised until believed, ingrained into his brain since he was a little boy. He felt a little shame at never really considering his dad’s side of the story. That he never thought further than simply judging him as a sucker even though he knew from personal experience that life was rarely that uncomplicated.

“Right.” _And there it was again._

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’d failed.”

“You Americans and your obscene love affair with money and success...” Lillian scoffed.

He gave her a pointed look, his eyes trailing to the large mansion she called home. Once again, she did not bother defending herself just smiled and proceeded to wrestle with a hedge.

It was time to tactically shift the subject back to her original thesis: _‘why chose being a lawyer of all careers?’_

“I suppose I was a product of my environment.” That was as close as he was willing to get to the subject of HHM and its employees and owners. “And I did like the selling to people part. I was good at it.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered a light-hearted lilt in her voice.

“It’s also taught me to be aware of my rights. Like how I should be paid for, say, gardening.”

“It’s therapy.”

“Try slave labour.”

“I’ll give you a thousand euros if you shut up for an hour.”

“Deal.” He yanked his glove off to shake her hand. Once the agreement was made he quipped, “But just to be clear you are paying me to stay silent, not to plant hedges, so, legally still slave labour.”

Lilian rolled her eyes, a coarse remark about lawyers on the tip of her tongue when her phone started ringing. Jimmy huffed in feigned annoyance, “Right. It’s gonna be real therapeutic with you yapping aw---”

“It’s Kim,” Lilian cut in, all humour gone from her tone. Jimmy knew the two of them were in constant contact but Lilian always did her best not to mention Kim to him.

“Oh.” And that was all he could say as all breath seemed to have escaped his body.

“I could...” Her finger hovered over the decline button.

“No, no, it’s fine.” And he really hoped it was. But right now even the mere thought of Kim being on the other end of the line of a phone call that he didn’t even have to be part of freaked him out. There was a jumble of feelings in there that he hadn’t had time to work through in therapy yet as his brother and Saul was deemed a priority.

Jimmy abandoned even the pretence of work as he held himself up with the spade, his eyes tracking Lilian - slightly out of earshot - walking up and down, having a conversation with Kim. _Kim._

All of a sudden he was thrown back to the day his mother died and the very dark hole he almost fell head first into before his phone rang and he saw the caller ID: _Kim_. She stayed on the line with him for two hours.

Chuck - ever the efficient - had arranged a quick cremation and burial so that they could fly back in time to make it to work on Monday. A couple of hours after their phonecall Kim was standing on his mother’s doorstep with the keys to a rental car that needed to be taken from Chicago to Albuquerque, a half Route 66 trip. Apparently she arranged it all with Howard, giving them both a week off.

By this time he was already in love with her; he pretty much had been from day one. It was nothing new, he had a problem with falling fast and hard very quickly, hence the divorces. But this trip firmly entrenched Kim in his life as his best friend. She was amazing, great to talk with and even better to laugh with and best of all, she cared, she cared so much. They were great lovers it turned out but they were even better friends. He missed those times. He missed his best friend. The love of his life? He wasn’t sure about her.

He must have zoned out because Lilian was now standing right in front of him with a hand over the receiver of her phone.

“Séamus, do you want to---?” Before she could finish the question Jimmy snatched the phone from her. Without a remark Lilian walked away, giving him privacy.

“Kim! How’s she cuttin’?” he asked jauntily, putting on his best Irish accent, the one that made every Irish person’s eyes roll. Time and again he was told he sounded as Irish as Sean Connery from the Untouchables. Did that stop him from trying? Never.

“Excuse me?” She sounded slightly amused.

“What’s the craic?” He cranked the accent up a bit more and finally got the response he wanted: a short little giggle.

“Ookay, I’ll just assume you’ve asked what’s up.” After a little pause she hesitantly asked, “Jimmy... Is this okay?”

“You kiddin’? It’s going to be refreshing to finally talk to someone whose every second sentence isn’t _‘and how did that make you feel?’_ ” And it really was okay. He found that he did want to know about how her days have been. “So, what’s up?”

“Has Lilian told you what we’ve been working on?”

“Yeah.” And boy was he immensely proud...And so incredibly relieved that he never managed to wreck her career. “Finally fighting the good fight, huh?”

“And going insane in the process.” She sighed and he heard the incredible amount of tension in her voice that she was so good at hiding but not as good as he was ignoring. “What was I thinking getting involved in lawmaking? You know I rarely wish serious prison time on anyone. But politicians?... I say: bring back the electric chair.”

“I’ve read through your proposal. If that doesn’t make California change their minds then nothing will,” he declared confidently trying to reassure her. “When’s the vote?”

“Next month, the 5th. Even if it goes through Wikus’ case is...” she trailed off exasperated. “How’s Lilian?”

“Ah, you know her...”

“Annoyingly well-adjusted?” She guessed with a hint of irritation: half-serious, half-joking.

“Exactly. Although I suspect she is overcompensating for the lack of phone calls a tad by suffocating me with her sisterly affections.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve tried every tactic in the book - even some of the colourful ones - to have Wikus be let out of the CMU but it’s unlikely to happen unless he stops being a hardegat and starts cooperating.” She went silent for a moment, her hand going to her temple trying to ease the stress headache that this case tended to give her. Jimmy knew these silences all too well and could just imagine the tight lines forming on her face. This was another battle she longed to fight but couldn’t. With a long exhale forced through her nose she pushed through the feeling of being powerless and instead concentrated on the now, on this moment she thought she would never experience again. “How have you been? How’s Ireland?”

“It’s lovely.” Was his knee-jerk answer. The one he gave because he knew she was already stressed enough and he didn’t want to make her feel worse. When she didn’t take the bait and went along with his song and dance routine he relented, “Not gonna lie, first few weeks I felt like I was stuck in the One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and was actually looking forward to the part where I’d get lobotomised.”

“Was it really that bad?” she prodded with concern, noticing that he was covering up some genuine pain with that quip.

“I---at the time? After years of just pushing everything down? Trust me, it was _really_ bad.”

“Oh God, what did you do?”

“Nothin’,” he answered quickly. Way too quickly. “Okay, fine, but it’s your fault for handing me over to Mother Theresa with the licence to kill. The woman runs a private army, Kim; when you tell her you need to feel alive you have to be ready to be punched in the face with adrenaline.”

“Do I want to know?”

“It wasn’t anything illegal. At least I think it wasn’t. I’m not very well-versed in international law so...” He realised how this must have all sounded, how she could jump to the worst conclusion hearing him talk like this so he hurried to add. “Don’t worry, they’ve prescribed me some medication so my Evel Knievel days are over. I haven’t really felt the urge to do something nuts in weeks.” The relieved sigh on the other end of the line made his heart skip a beat. _She still cared._

He quickly picked a mundane topic to slow his heart. “They got me working at the Foundation screening grant applications. It’s really just reading a bunch of essays from bright young-- and not so young things. I’m also allowed to give the less impressive ones some feedback and help in writing. It’s great.” He enthused a bit although his tone still felt a bit off. “It’s nothing compared to overturning the felony murder rule but it’s something.”

“Jimmy,” she lightly warned him.

“Right. Sorry. I shouldn’t be putting myself down. I’m working on it.”

“Good.” Then with a less serious tone she added, “And hey, I’m open to switching places.”

He thought for a beat about what aspect of his new life he should share next and went with, “We also do some guided meditation in the mornings which is a great way to catch up on sleep by the way... And, uh,-- there’s some regular exercise.”

“She got you to do yoga too, didn’t she?”

“It’s unfair. I’m in the best shape of my life but it’s not exactly something I can boast about to the lads down at the pub.” A heavy pause followed this light-hearted little complaint. Kim sensed something monumental was coming. Unconsciously, she held her breath in anticipation. “I, ah---I’ve got a shrink. _Father_ Dillon.” He made sure to put an emphasis on the father part. “Kid’s half my age...And I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m going to hell.”

“Was that ever even a question?”

He smirked enjoying the light teasing, it made spilling his heart out much easier. “He is a good lad. Patience of a saint with annoyingly great insight into the spectacular ways I’ve fucked up my life…” There was something else on the tip of his tongue, something he found hard to admit for some reason. “I, ah-- I’ve probably cried more in the last few weeks than in my entire life.”

Kim drew in a shaky breath trying to remain strong for him. “But you are feeling better?”

“I, uh, I feel somethin’ definitely. Better is still up for debate.” But it was also definitely a start. The most promising he had had in the last decade.

Pulling the phone even closer to herself in a vain attempt at trying to close the thousands of miles of distance between them feeling the urge to be there by his side, Kim gushed, “Jimmy. I’m so proud of you, that you’ve given this a shot. I know it’s not easy.”

“Beats 12 hour shifts at Cinnabon.” She exhaled out of her nose in amusement at that then he heard the unmistakable sound of sheets rustling. “Are you getting in bed?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve had a really long day and have to be up early.” His heart clenched and his brain scrambled for something to say, anything. 

“Should I sing you to sleep?” he offered in the end and to his relief the banter restarted.

“What have I ever done to you to inflict such cruel torture on me?”

“Hey! I seem to recall you saying Freddie Mercury had nothing on me.”

“I also recall being coerced into that confession.”

“Objection, hearsay.” By this time she was softly giggling, the sound making Jimmy smile fondly and blurt out, “I’ve missed this.”

Before he could take it back she softly admitted, “Me too.”

“Shit, Kim, I’ve missed you every day since you’ve left.”

“Jimmy---”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts here, not laying blame. I just…” He immediately felt that he stepped into an emotional minefield he was not ready to negotiate just yet. “I should---”

“Tell me about the estate. How’s life living in the longest house in Ireland?” This was so much like the old days, when neither of them wanted time spent together to ever end so they fell asleep on couches and had long conversations in parked cars reluctant to say ‘goodbye’, trying their best to shorten the time between it and saying ‘hey’ again.

“I wouldn’t know. I was given a small cottage on the back of the estate. It’s nothing fancy but it does have a fireplace.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is.” He contemplated his next sentence for a moment. “It’s very... quiet around here.”

“They must be happy to have you then,” she teased playfully.

“Hey!” he protested with a matching grin. “‘Sides, most of them are Irish, they yap away more than I do.” He heard a quiet ‘oh man’ on the other end whispered in mock-dread.

He looked around at the vast greens and the small gravel road leading to the visitors’ car park. “Most of the place is open to the public Tuesday through Sunday but past 6pm it’s just us. I took up walking around the woods when they are empty.”

“You? And nature?”

He tried, and failed, not to let amusement sneak into his proud words. “I’ll have you know I’ve only gotten lost two times.”

Jimmy savoured the obvious sound of quiet laughter filtering through from the other end of the line. “We have a small farm operating on the premises; coupla cows, sheep. Oh, and we have horses.”

Sleepy voice gone Kim immediately perked up. “Horses? You have horses? What breeds?”

His brows knitted. “Uhm, the ones with four legs? There are different kinds?”

“Of course. For starters there’s a difference between ponies and horses. The Irish do love their ponies. How tall ---?”

“Oh my god, Kim!” he spluttered his shoulders shaking from laughter. “I didn’t know you were a horse girl.”

“Horse girl?” She inquired innocently.

“Nice one, counselor, I could almost believe you’ve had no idea what I was talking about. So, did you have posters of dashing horses on your walls that you kissed before going to sleep?”

“Okay, I’m hanging up,” she mock grumbled laughter still colouring her words light.

“No, no, no. Sorry. I didn’t mean to tease. I mean, I understand. There’s this one in the stables: Lucy... has the most beautiful, uhm...hair---”

“Mane.” Kim corrected him then regretted it instantly when she heard his snort. _That asshole_ , he’d totally set her up.

“Horse girl.”

“Goodnight, Jimmy.”

“Goodnight, Kim.”

He hung up and then just stood unmoving, staring down at the phone in his hand with a slight smile still lingering on his lips that quivered then faded.

“You alright?” Lilian asked him with a hint of concern in her voice. And then came the usual question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

As a reflex he got defensive. “I’m sure you girls will talk all about it later.”

“We don’t talk about you,” she stated matter-of-factly as she took her phone from him. His attitude quickly faded. “All I tell her is that you’re alright. That’s it.”

“Not even about the…” He stammered.

“No. _Especially_ not that.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“No worries, brother.” He knew it was just a South African expression poshed up by her time in England but for some reason - and who was he kidding, of course the reason was Chuck - it still felt nice to be treated with genuine respect by someone who called him a brother.

He was still grappling with the implications of both conversations when Lilian nudged his shoulder. “Hope that was a great phone call because I’m afraid it has just cost you a thousand euros.”

He let out a dry chuckle that seemed to relieve the remaining tension in his body then happily declared, “Worth it.”

From then on the calls started; first every other week then with time the frequency increased. The topics started out generic enough: weather, traffic, commutes, crazy Irish people and Californians, Wikus’ appeal; until one day Jimmy just blurted out the name that had the tendency to turn into an emotional hand grenade: Chuck.

Only to Kim’s surprise Jimmy seemed to have no trouble at all to speak about the elder McGill brother. When she called him on his odd behaviour he told her that he had already worked through his stuff with Chuck. Kim sounded doubtful and Jimmy couldn’t blame her. So he revealed that part of the process had been to write Chuck a reply to his ‘letter from the beyond’ and offered to read it to her. She was more than happy to listen.

_Dear Chuck,_

_I’ll just skip the double-speak and say this: fuck you. Thought I might as well get this out of the way first. Fuck you, because despite of everything, the truth is, you’ve mattered a lot to me._

_I don’t blame you for what had happened. Only because I’ve learned that playing the blame game is not very productive. Instead, I can just say you were a major contributor to how I’ve turned out. For better or worse. Mostly worse._

_I wish I could say this to your face, but you were wrong. I’ve spent years proving you right out of spite and I was in agony the whole time. All that shit you’ve said echoing in my head. That was the last place you’ve existed. Now it’s time I move on, have someone more supportive in there._

_You told me once that I’d just end up hurting everyone around me. Now I realise it was you. It was always about you. I’ve hurt you and I am sorry. I should have realised that being a lawyer had meant so much to you. All I wanted was a scrap of the respect you’ve had. I thought you would understand as you seemed to have craved for the affection I’ve received._

_You’ve had your own issues. I now probably know exactly just how much it had must hurt when Rebecca left you. And I truly regret not getting you the help you’ve needed sooner. I suppose that’s at least something we’ve had in common. I wish that learning to heal would have been the other._

_You were my brother, my last blood relative. But people can form new families. Less toxic ones. So don’t worry, I’m not alone. I’ve got people in my corner now._

_Goodbye, Chuck.  
_

There was silence on the other end of the line but he could hear Kim sniffle from time-to-time as he was reading so he knew she was still there.

Kim had respect for Chuck as a lawyer. As a brother, though - in Kim’s eyes - the man was an utter failure. She had always suspected Chuck’s real feelings towards his brother, catching a hint of condescension every time she saw the two interact. Jimmy, though, - always so eager to please - was completely blind to it. She hoped that once Jimmy passed the bar Chuck would finally find some respect for his little brother, see the immense progress the younger man had made the last few years. Instead, things just got exponentially worse.

“Jimmy.” She barely managed to get his name out.

He thought this would be easy, he had written this letter weeks ago and Chuck barely came up in his therapy sessions anymore. He could even bring up his name during casual conversation with the others on the estate. But sharing it with Kim - the one person who’d been through it all with him - proved that he couldn’t just stuff the hurt down. _And he shouldn’t_ , he reminded himself. _It was okay to feel these things._

Still, he tried to adopt a nonchalant air. “Yeah-ah, bit loaded, huh?...Connor -- Father Dillon wasn’t too impressed. But hey, there’s no pleasing everyone, right?”

“What was his problem? It sounded pretty tame to me.”

“Suppose that’s because you knew Chuck.” Kim huffed a small laugh at that. Jimmy smiled as well but it quickly faded. He needed to get one thing out. “Listen, Kim. I just--- I want to tell you how grateful I am that you’ve stood up for me to Chuck. I’ve never told you because of all the Mesa Verde shit and how rightfully pissed you were and all. But it did mean a lot to me... It meant a lot: having you in my corner...”

“I left--” It was barely a whisper and barely two words but the pain it carried hit him square in the chest.

“It’s not like I wasn’t pushing you the whole time.” He did want to discuss this. The topic of their relationship and its demise was a giant elephant prancing around in all their phone conversations but this wasn’t the time and if he could chose, it also wasn’t the medium of communication for it. “This was way too much to put on one person, let alone one who was drowning herself.”

“Okay,” she half-heartedly agreed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“Hey. There’s no use dwelling on the past-- which is, by the way, a very weird thing to teach a man whom you are forcing into therapy--” He couldn’t help shoehorning that little light dig at the technique of focusing on the present moment as a coping method just to pull them a bit out of the muddy mood. “I am doing well now. And I hate to admit, I did need all these nutters to help me through it. It takes a village and all that.” When Kim kept silent Jimmy went on, his tone light. “On that note. I hope you realise that you’ve sent me into a cult, Kim.” 

“Hey, that’s the Cali way of dealing with shit.” They chuckled at that. Kim’s curiosity piqued. “So, what are you talking about with Dillon if not Chuck? Did you--uh--- did you move on to Saul?”

Jimmy gulped. “I, ah…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don---”

“It’s not you. It’s, uh...it’s my dad.” That was an old bandaid that by now pretty much fused with his skin and was mighty painful to rip. Not to mention it involved a lot of reflection and breaking through thought patterns that were such integral parts of him, he felt like he was vivisected on Father Dillon’s couch. “He uhm...Mom said never to talk about this, never tell a soul. I thought it was a catholic thing but…” He might as well just come out with it without any window dressing. “My dad killed himself.”

“Oh my god, Jimmy. I am so sorry. I--” She trailed off, at a loss for words then a thought hit her. “Did Chuck---?”

“He didn’t know. Only mom and I did and I don’t think she’d ever told him.” At least he hoped. Ruth did love Chuck very much, if not for anything the eldest McGill brother was someone she could brag about so it was unlikely she would have wanted to hurt him. Unfortunately, she had no such worries about Charles senior. “He...dad was talking to Father Mahoney around the time the shop had started doing really badly but uh, mom told him not to involve the church in our private business so he stopped.” The empathy he felt for his father’s plight still fresh in his heart, Jimmy found it hard to get through the whole story. He still confessed, “I’ve treated him like dirt, called him weak. Looked down on him his whole life...”

“Jimmy. It couldn’t possibly have been your fault. You were just a kid.”

He let out a weary sigh. “Dillon says the same. He said it’s never one thing that pushes people... Still. I’m sure I did contribute to it...”

A small, dark silence settled on the line. 

Kim finally asked, “He’s buried in Chicago, right?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy croaked confused.

“I’m going to Terre Haute next week. I could visit his grave, leave some flowers there for you.” He wanted to argue that flowers would not bring the man back but realised this wasn’t about his dad, it was about making Jimmy feel better. And whilst it would have been just a gesture and Jimmy wouldn’t even be present and the whole thing felt just silly he found that he still wanted it to happen.

“Kim, it’s a 7 hour drive both ways.”

“I can just fly back from Chicago, instead of Indianapolis.”

“Three and a half is still a lot to ask for.”

“I don’t mind it, Jimmy. You know I like driving.” He was hesitating, his right hand that wasn’t holding the phone to his ear came up to massage his eyebrows in frustration. Kim spoke again. “Hey, standing on your own two feet doesn’t mean you can no longer accept a little help.”

A puff of air left his nose in mild amusement. “That’s exactly what Margaret told me this morning. Well, not so eloquently--bit more liberal with the swear words-- but same message.”

“Margaret, she is theee…” Kim was racking her brain for that detail. It seemed like there were an inordinate number of people working and visiting the estate and Jimmy had a story - or five - to share about each and every one of them.

“Head chef.” He filled in.

“Head chef, yes. The one with the blind poodle: Daredevil.”

“That’s the one, yes.”

“I feel like I know everyone despite never having met any of them,” Kim mused with a smile.

“It’s gonna be weird when you visit, isn’t it?”

There was a slight pause there before her answering, “Yeah.”

 _Right_. That was another subject they haven’t really broached yet so he quickly steered clear of it. “Forest Home Cemetery. It’s on Des Plaines Ave. I can email you the details.”

“Please do.”

“And Kim. Thank you.” Before she could react he continued, “And uh. Tell him I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's **my theory on the 14k**. It irks me that the Fandom's Wiki states it a fact that it was Jimmy who skimmed all that money but for starters, we've only ever heard it from Chuck and rarely any story has one side to it. Not to mention Chuck tends to like to blame Jimmy for everything.
> 
> Chuck was doing a clerkship when he inspected the books (this was probably an error on the writers' side as Chuck was born in 44 so Jimmy would have been a toddler or at the very least less than 10 during this time). Hence I went with Jimmy being 18ish around this time instead, still...
> 
>  **Facts:**  
>  \- Chuck was "not an accountant" (205 Rebecca)  
> \- Marco tells us that Jimmy's mum was doing the books (308 Slip)  
> \- Irish mammys are fierce (circumstantial, I know, but just throwing this out there)  
> \- USD 14k in circa 1980 money equals to 31k in 2003 (44k in today's dollars). What in the world would young Jimmy do with all that money? And why run other scams if he had all this income? Would he really put one over on his mother _and_ take his da's dream away? Were those tears at his dad's funeral really of guilt over scamming him?
> 
> I rest my case, your honour 🧐  
> 


	4. Culchie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Russborough House** bears the title of the **longest house in Ireland** and was once the residence of British politician art collector and philanthropist Sir Alfred Lane Beit and his wife Clementine Mabell Mitford. They first moved from England to South Africa then - appalled by the apartheid - moved on to Ireland becoming honourary citizens.
> 
> Sir Alfred’s uncle, also named Alfred Beit, was a diamond magnate buying up mines in Kimberley, South Africa, doing ‘big schemes’ with his friend Cecil Rhodes going on to found De Beers.  
> ...this fic was a trip down the Wikipedia blackhole as you can see.
> 
>  **Lilian** (named after Sir Alfred’s mother) and **Wikus** are fictional characters as Clementine and Alfred never had any children. Also the Alfred Beit Foundation housed at Russborough does not offer grants (the other Alfred Beit Foundation based in the UK does though). And I think it goes without saying that the Beit family was never involved in private military contracting.

#### 1992

It had been a month since Jimmy started in the mailroom. His first real, honest job. It took some serious adjusting but he turned up to work every day. No matter how shit it felt to actually wake up at 6:30am every weekday morning, take two buses: one that smelled like ass the other despair, all to get there. He really wanted to prove to Chuck that he could do this and found that he actually enjoyed the pressure that came with having expectations of your actions.

It took Kim two weeks to size Jimmy up, slightly concerned with his angle. He kept sticking to her, trying to constantly strike up a conversation. The last part alone wasn’t too concerning as she noticed he was doing the same with pretty much everyone; the man did have the stereotypical Irish gift of the gab. The interesting part was that he didn’t try to hit on her once or made a comment that remotely referenced her outward appearance. She would never forget the look he gave her when she told him she was actually a law student. Instead of the usual surprise there was admiration there as he commended her on her drive.

“Hell, not even Chuck could hold down a full-time job whilst going to law school.”

Soon they were having smoke breaks and lunches together not only because both Burt and Ernie were yet to celebrate their 21st birthdays and whilst they were both great guys Jimmy and Kim were keenly aware of the age gap when more grown up subjects arose at the lunch table. It was about something deeper they had shared but haven’t realised until this little work-do where the mail room staff enjoying some drinks to celebrate finishing off a gruelling two weeks of printing - and then re-printing thanks to indecisive associates - briefs for a huge case.

By 2am the initial rambunctiousness has turned into a fist fight for Burt and a very bad time on the toilet for Ernie. For the older members of the party things mellowed into careful introspection fuelled by the quiet wisdom of the plastered. They were sitting side-by-side in a small booth near the back of the bar in a small booth sipping on their beers in occasional companionable silence broken up mostly by Jimmy.

“So Kim, ‘you from around here?”

“No. I--”

“Wait, lemme guess.” He gave her a sweeping look, as if her choice of footwear or the size of her pinky finger could have anything to do with where she was from. “Do you know how to shoot a rifle?”

She smirked over the rim of her beer bottle. “Yes.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened and he gave an appreciative whistle. He concluded, “South it is.” She just shook her head still gulping her beer. “Damn... The accent isn’t helping...Wexler. Wexler. Sounds German... Mid-West?” This time she smiled and nodded. He got overtly excited at that prospect greatly aided by the copious amounts of alcohol he had already consumed. “Nooo! Don’t tell me you’re also from Illinois.”

“Kansas.”

“Sunflower State,” he mused with that dreamy, crooked smile of his, giving her a look that made her insides tremble. The first time this had happened she got very confused. He wasn’t her type - not even close to it - and yet she had found herself weirdly drawn to him more with each day. He was an absolute charmer, no doubt but there was something else there that intrigued her. And she liked to think there was a reason why he seemed to pay her special attention. _Or maybe she was just too drunk and lonely and started imagining things that weren’t there._

She had a story she told people, ashamed of the reality. It did have hints of the truth in there; the best lies always did. Somehow she found herself telling the whole truth to Jimmy, “Middle of nowhere Kansas. The only reason why I don’t say trailer park is because our house had no wheels and it was connected to the mains. Other than that, a true shithole.”

“Running away from shit, huh?” He was so down with that. “Let’s compare whose pile’s bigger!” That sounded like an appalling subject for everyday conversation but a perfectly reasonable one for the state they were in.

Being the talker and still not sure he convinced her to open up fully he volunteered. “I’ll start.” With a swig from his beer he cracked on. “When I was eighteen a girlfriend of mine - well, not really a girlfriend but more of a drunken mistake - claimed that she was pregnant. As is Catholic tradition we were wed before she would give birth.” Kim stopped drinking, her eyes widening as she gave him all her attention. Not that she thought she had sole claim to shitty starts to life but Chuck McGill’s brother...? “She never did... You see, I’ve also had Catholic sex education and didn’t really know there was no way she got pregnant from...that.”

Her short little laugh encouraged him to carry on. “So barely 19 with a divorce. Great start, huh? Well, the girl I was head over heels with was eyeing this much older guy so I thought marrying her would put a stop to that. Especially when the guy became my step-father.” Beer halfway to her lips Kim froze, an emphatic ‘nooo’ escaping her as she put her bottle back down. She thought these kinds of shenanigans were exclusive to rural living, turns out city folk did not have it that different. “We weren’t married for a week when I first caught them. She told me it was just a one-off thing and I stupidly believed her. Three years I ignored the signs. Apparently, I wasn’t man enough. That translates to not bringing in enough money to let her live comfortably. I was...I was trying my best but she had very expensive tastes.” He was slightly startled when her hand covered his on the table. For a moment his mind became completely blank. Then she drew back with a sympathetic little smirk. He felt compelled to dig himself even deeper.

“23, double divorcee.” _A loser,_ he heard the voice in the back of his mind. “Thing is. My darling step-dad was also the local loan shark and I knew my mother used to be a client of his trying to keep my pathetic dad’s store afloat. Chet was overcharging like the great businessman he was. When I told him he owed us money he laughed in my face saying there was no contract so it’s not like we could sue... Could we?” Kim was perplexed for a moment. Not just because she was so not in the state to hand out legal advice. _Did the man not have a lawyer for a brother?_ But she still shook her head ‘no’. “Shit...I’ve tried to be the bigger man. Told myself I was over all that. Fast forward to a few months ago, I see the guy’s BMW at a Dairy Queen. Sunroof open. See, if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I make really stupid decisions very easily and think of the consequences...well, never really, if I can help it.” He was stalling before he just came out with it. “So I went ahead and gave him a Chicago Sunroof.”

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What’s that?”

His mind was screaming at him not to say it. This was supposed to be a fresh start, why ruin it with bringing up his past. Especially _that_ part. Chuck would be mad. “Uhm--defecating through a sunroof.”

“Wow.” That was it. No judgement. She even seemed like she understood his very twisted and disgusting way of getting justice.

“Told you. Stupid decisions.” She was still sitting next to him, listening with rapt attention. The confession just flowed out of him. “And it gets worse... Guy had tinted windows. And I swear I didn’t see that his underage kids were in the car.” This was the moment Jimmy decided Kim would make an excellent lawyer. She didn’t even flinch. “If not for Chuck I’d be in prison now with my name on the sex offender list...So yeah, beat that!”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or how he opened up to her, trusting her, or that little glint in his eyes that looked so familiar. Either way, Kim - for the first time - found herself telling the real story of how she had ended up in New Mexico.

“I grew up with...traditional values. You know, woman belongs at home, preferably in the kitchen, taking care of the children.” She recalled with a wry smile. “After high school I didn’t go to college. Cashiered for a while on the lookout for _‘the’_ husband who would take care of me for the rest of my life.” She couldn’t help the disgust scrunch up her face. _What the hell was she thinking?_ “Stupidly fell in love with the manager of the gas station. Got engaged within a month.” She took a swig of her dwindling beer. “Since we’ve needed the money I continued to work... A while back a large holding - Cullum Companies - bought up the chain I’ve worked at. Found out that they were using the profits from our stores to support the operations of their other stores in Texas. So I’ve organised a strike with the other union reps across the chain as a protest. Few months later the closures started and of course Cullum was pointing fingers at the strike as a reason... Everyone in town and in a 20 mile radius blamed me for losing our store.”

“Idiots.” She shared the sentiment but it wasn’t like being adamant in that belief helped her survive or get a new job.

“Things weren’t going very well at home either. After the store closures I’ve decided to give higher education a chance and signed up for a few classes at my local community college. My fiancé was growing more and more resentful. Apparently, I was 'confused about my priorities'.” She remembered his story. “See, I was told I wasn’t woman enough. Which in my case translated to not giving him sons having miscarried two times.”

“Shit, Kim---”

“It’s okay. I never really wanted to be a mother. It---I know this sounds bad-- but it was just a means to an end. To make sure he’d never leave me.” A small laugh left through her pursed lips at the absurdity of that way of thinking. _How could she had ever been that stupid?_ “Less than a month after breaking off our engagement he married another woman who’d mysteriously given birth 4 months later.” She turned to Jimmy to gauge his reaction. _Has she managed to lose his respect by now?_ All she saw was sympathy layered with being just a tiny bit uncomfortable. _Or he was just bursting for a pee. Who knows?_

“Anyhow, my dad showed up after he’d heard what happened…” God, that was another package she had never really unpacked before. “He--ah--he hasn’t exactly been in my life a lot being in and out of prison most of my childhood... He gave me a cheque - and who knows where that money came from -- but it would have been enough to get me an in-state undergrad diploma and maybe even cover law school at Kansas University-- but that was too close to home so instead I’ve ran all the way down to the first out-of-state school that accepted me.”

Jimmy was speechless for a few moments. _So there was a way to shut the man up._ “Kim. I think you’ve won this one.”

She felt raw, open and vulnerable and really, really pathetic under his warm gaze. To regain some footing she put on a slightly flirty smile and asked, “What did I win?”

Jimmy cleared his throat breaking eye-contact, awkwardly shuffling out of their booth. He squeaked, “Another round?”

He got back with two beers and sat across her. She raised her glass for a toast, “Things are always better in the morning.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

With Burt sent home hours ago it was just Kim, Jimmy and Ernie who shared a cab home. Ernie’s was the first stop, his mother already anxiously waiting for him on their porch. Next up was Kim, and Jimmy insisted on walking her to her door for safety. He kept babbling on about how someone should really invent a rifle that could be folded into a compact enough size to fit a purse. Kim didn’t have the heart to remind him of the existence of handguns and just let him ramble on enjoying his voice filling up the otherwise silent night air around them.

She got her keys out of her purse, took a deep breath then turned to look at him. She felt the familiar pull between them, saw a way out of the loneliness, of the silence that waited for her on the other side of that door, the one that came with this life she chose, the one she was still getting used to.

Before she could speak he leaned in and gave her a barely there kiss on her cheek. When he pulled back the tips of his ears turned scarlet. His voice changed, much deeper but still raspy. “Goodnight, Kim!”

She longed to reach out to him craving the warmth she knew he held. “Night, Jimmy!”

Only a week later when Ernie got an appendicitis she realised she had fallen in love with him, or rather that she felt _something_ for him. It took her twenty more years to admit it was love.

And this was the problem; whilst they talked about anything and everything, feelings were never really on the table, simply because they were both rather shit at understanding or expressing them. Hence it did not really come as a surprise when eventually she did try to voice her feelings - the ones she did not really bother to identify - she made an absolute mess of it.

They were sitting on her small couch after watching an old movie on her new VCR. Jimmy was going on and on about Germans in Hollywood. She knew he was just as reluctant to leave as she was letting him go. What came out of her mouth next was nowhere near what was in her heart of hearts. She was horrified to realise that instead of a relationship she had just proposed a mutually beneficial arrangement. Or what she thought was meant to be a mutually beneficial one but really ended with her benefiting as Jimmy unselfishly gave her the pleasure she craved. She fell apart under his gentle, reverent ministrations in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

“Do you want more?” he asked, his breath against her collarbone making her break out in goosebumps. The state she was in, she could only nod, her nose brushing his temple up and down. _This was it, they were crossing a line._

But instead of joining her in her state of almost-undress, he resumed his previous activities. Her protest died in her throat, a moan taking its place. She soon lost all her senses again and by the time she was finding her way back to being coherent he was buttoning her blouse back up. _Maybe he really didn’t want her but was a good enough friend to give her this._ And she took it. She took all she could.

Months later, lying on his bed after crying her eyes out because of her school, HHM and the general shit state her life was in she turned to him for comfort the second time. This time she reached for his belt, leaving no doubt about what she meant. He broke their frantic kiss immediately pulling his hips away with a questioning, startled look in his eyes. She later realised that: “I want you.” Could easily have meant _‘this is still about me’_ to him. Instead she should probably have asked him, “do you want this?”

With her in school and later working her ass off and him winding up in law school as well this thing between them quickly became an arrangement happening once every few months instead of ever getting the chance to be called a proper relationship. The promise was there though, Jimmy thought. Once he graduated...and then passed the bar...and then joined HHM...probably only if it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

#### 2011

_15:41_

Jimmy quietly groaned after looking at his work computer’s clock, his left leg bouncing up and down underneath his desk. It was a quiet period at the Foundation with the major grant period over Jimmy had not much to do. Not that he could concentrate at all lately once it got past half three. Four in the afternoon was when he normally got off work and immediately dialled Kim for their now regular, daily calls. It was mostly him complaining about the day he’d had whilst she was getting ready for work entertained by his stories of life on the estate.

His boss snapped with the fondness of an Irish mammy scolding her darling boy. “Oh for heaven’s sake, stop acting the maggot, Séamus! Just go, call your mot before you drive us all insane.”

Jimmy didn’t even care to protest or to take offence of the way Pete in the corner snickered. He just quickly slipped into his blazer, picked up his keys and phone and flew out the door.

Kim picked up on the second ring, her voice still half-asleep, full with the enthusiasm of the freshly awoken getting ready for work. “Jimmy, you’re out early.”

He purposefully got annoyingly chipper. “Good morning to you too, Kim!”

“Sorry, I just haven’t had time for a shower yet.” _Oh._ “Call me b---”

“Go ahead, I’ll be on hold.”

“Jimmy--” Her protest was short-lived and half-hearted. When he did not relent she just chuckled, put her phone down on the bathroom counter then went to open the water in her shower. Jimmy may have imagined the sound of her pyjamas hitting the floor before he had to steer himself off-course. He was still walking through the vast hallways of the House so he quickly snuck in one of the empty rooms: a small, dark and dingy little one that no doubt served to put the help in their place a few decades ago. He stood in that dark room with his eyes closed listening to the water flowing.

His thoughts started out innocent enough, just savouring this intimate moment, imagining himself there with her, with him brushing his teeth trying to stay awake in the process. With the water still running thousands of miles away he remembered what used to happen once it got turned off: her hand would reach out and he would hand her her towel brushing past her throwing his pyjamas off then jumping in the still running shower. They’ve gone through this routine hundreds of times and he never really stopped to appreciate it fully until it was him standing alone again in a silent bathroom.

And then the more indecent thoughts started up and he made a mental note never, ever to call her early again. Not unless he wanted to torture himself. Turned out that four years apart could not erase the feel of her soft skin from his mind or the sounds of the little noises she’d make when he ran his hands down her body. He took the phone from his ear and leaned his head backwards somewhat forcefully hitting the wooden panelling on the wall behind him with the back of his head as he tried to calm himself down. He was so not going to touch himself in a dingy little room all but 10 metres from his workplace’s door, still inside a building that was also a tourist attraction. He was _not_ going to sink this low.

In the haze of his mind he heard the hair dryer droning away and knew he had but a minute or two. In 30 seconds she was done and announced she was now ready for their conversation. Jimmy was still a bit off-balance and had to force some casual air into his tone.

“Got an email from Ernie. He’s got a new car. A Volvo if you can believe that.”

“What? No!” Apparently, she couldn’t. “Does that mean he’s finally given up street racing?”

“Hopefully.” And he really did hope because the last time Ernie got on the wrong side of the law Jimmy - or rather Saul - was there to make sure he got out scot-free, no record. Ernie promised him it was the last time he raced and Jimmy hoped it really was because a few months later he had to bail to Omaha and could no longer have the young man’s back.

Finally ready to leave his self-imposed solitude Jimmy walked out of the small room to continue his short walk home. Once in the hallway again he shared the real reason he brought up the email and made sure to make his voice neutral as he delivered the news, “Oh, and he is getting married.”

“No way!” Kim exclaimed in genuine surprise. “Wow…Our boy is growing up so fast.”

“He, ah-- he asked me to be his best man. But I doubt even Lilian could swing that.”

“Yeah...Is he still with Davis & Main?”

“Ah, no. He hated the commute. Not much fun driving the I25.” Jimmy, of course, spoke of personal experience. That commute came back in his nightmares. “Howard’s hired him a few years back.”

It was Kim’s idea to send the less questionable clients Jimmy didn’t have the time for to Howard to help him start up his new, small practice, free of his father’s overbearing expectations. Howard was now paying back the favour by taking Jimmy’s case working diligently on clearing his name. Whilst he was still handsomely rewarded for his efforts Hamlin claimed it was a matter of principle as he felt responsible for how Jimmy's career turned out.

“That’s great. Tell him I wish him all the best.”

Jimmy smiled. The prospect of sending an email with joint best wishes from him and Kim making him oddly happy. “I will.”

“Jimmy…” She started and just from her tone he could tell she was smiling. The fondness in her voice never ceased to make him feel warm inside. “You sound so much better than the day we met in Omaha.”

“I _am_ feeling better. My psychiatrist said I still have at least another six months on the pills and then I’m on my own.” The prospect terrified him.

“You’ll be alright.”

“Speaking of experience?” He asked casually. This was another thing they haven’t really discussed. In fact, now that he thought about it, they haven’t exactly discussed much of what had happened to Kim between the time he said goodbye to her at Sunport and her popping back in his life in Omaha. All through their phonecalls Kim hadn’t said anything too personal. He suspected she was being respectful of his process and didn’t want to impose on him with all her problems so she stuck to everyday, mundane things as she slowly slid back into his life which he appreciated as most days he still felt emotionally exhausted.

“I was never on any meds.”

Now that piqued his interest because whilst she did not share, she did often give him really good insight. The kinds he found strange coming from Kim. “How _did_ you get on the path to enlightenment then?”

“You know me and asking for help.” He did. But he also never heard her admit to it. Especially not so casually. He was a bit taken aback by that. “What you hear today is the result of a few choice books Lilian’s recommended and dinners with Devin and his husband... And I didn’t get there much earlier than you.” He didn’t prod, just stayed silent, giving her the opening to talk. “Two years ago I was headhunted from ACLU by Devin. I was made managing partner: equity worth millions, seat on the board, department head position and the case of a lifetime. I was truly fighting for justice. No more transactional attorney bullshit.” Jimmy was just about to tell her how proud he was when she spoke again with a distant, gravely voice. “Few months later I woke up in a hospital with Devin and Lilian at my bedside.” The breath left Jimmy’s body as he tensed up in anticipation. “I’ve had a heart attack.”

His steps faltered and he found himself reaching for the side of the building nearby. “Jesus Christ, Kim---”

“It’s okay, I’m okay. It was an uncomplicated heart attack, as they call it. I got over it in a month or so. Physically. Mentally-- it-- the cracks have started to show... And then Devin told me they were cashing me out, making me of counsel.” Her voice came from closer now, he was off speaker phone. It made their conversation much more intimate, as if he was sitting there right beside her.

“Sounds exactly like what you’ve needed.” He made a mental note to be a bit nicer to Lilian the next time they spoke because he knew that if it were up to Kim they might not be having this conversation right now.

“Yeah, no. I was so not going down without a fight. Work was my thing, my hiding place from all the feelings I told myself I did not have. It was the only thing I’ve had left because I sure as shit did not have a life anymore. So I told those two assholes they could get my job when they pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Jimmy cringed. “Bit of an unfortunate phrasing there.”

“I think you are underestimating my dependence on work to numb myself... I’ve even reported Lilian to ICE for overstaying.”

“You did not!”

“Of course I did! Unsurprisingly, immigration isn’t very concerned with a white millionaire who also happens to be a client of several American arms manufacturers.”

"Christ, Kim, remind me never to cross you.”

“Not that anything I’ve tried worked. Soon I was on a diet and exercise routine and had way too much free-time on my hands. When I complained I was practically ordered to find myself some hobbies. Hobbies, Jimmy!... Plural!” She sounded positively scandalised. Kim Wexler prided herself on how she was dedicated to the law and hence had no time for mundane things like hobbies other than maybe watching classic movies. The bike in her bedroom was more of an expensive clothes hanger than an exercise machine. After all, who needed to work out to keep slim when you could just regularly skip meals to maintain your figure?

“I got a horse. Kagiso. It’s Tswana for peace. Started painting again. Got into hiking...And it all worked. I’ve actually started looking forward to the weekends when I could go riding. I’ve slowly learned to open up a bit more. Things were...going well.” There was another heavy silence and Jimmy quickly sat down on a nearby bench, his hand gripping his phone in anticipation. “Then dad died.”

“Shit, Kim. When?”

“Last year...I---” She really wanted to tell him something and found herself weighing his probable reaction thinking maybe it would be too much of an emotional strain on him then caught herself and admitted in a breath, “I’ve called you.” Her tone lost its steel. “I--- it just hit me. All that pain...and my first thought was you...For a moment I forgot that you weren’t in my life anymore.”

He found himself chocked by grief and as she spoke the guilt crept in. He should have been there for her. He thought about all those texts he wrote but never sent. The email he typed up when one lonely night he Googled her name and found her address on the page for managing partners at her new firm.

“--But you were already on the run...God, we were at the Omaha VA. To think you were only a few miles away.”

“I am so sorry,” he murmured feeling utterly impotent. “What--what happened?”

“He--Lymphoma...it was quick. He was gone in just two months. Didn’t suffer much.”

“That’s...good.”

“Yeah. And I had the chance to say goodbye.”

“I am--- I’m sorry, Kim.” And he truly was. Kim’s dad, Ian, as he insisted Jimmy to call him, was a soft spoken, gentle man. He was pretty much the only family Kim had as she went no contact with everyone else back in Kansas. He was also the head of an outlaw motorcycle club, more than two metres tall and over 100 kilograms, with a long beard and tattoos, a lot of them from prison. They had only met in person twice; once at Kim’s graduation from UNM and later at the party Jimmy threw when Kim passed the bar. They hit it off immediately, bonding over lawyer jokes and teasing Kim.

With a brighter, proud tone Kim spoke again. “A few years back he got into a program as part of his probation. Jimmy, you should have seen him, he was like a changed man. All that anger, just gone...” She sniffled a little but there was a smile in her voice. “He's the one who told Lilian about you...Man, those two...” She trailed off with fond exasperation. “Did she tell you about her kidnapping plot?”

“What? No!?”

“Be thankful you ran away from New Mexico.” Kim was now chuckling whilst blowing her nose. “In the end, when she found you-- she'd figured you might be a bit more willing if I asked.”

Nine months have passed since Kim had asked Jimmy to take this chance for a fresh start when one day, out of the blue, Kim called to announce her visit the very next day. Everyone knew what this had meant and a solemn mood descended on the House.

The next day Jimmy stood in a trance at the arrivals at Dublin Airport, watching the door open. _Close. Open. Close. Open._

The last month or so his phonecalls with Kim started to become much more open but still steering well clear of their failed relationship. It was really just two best friends reconnecting. Until that one call where a joke about what he was wearing ended with both of them getting some momentary sexual release.

He was still confused as to whether they could actually progress into a functioning relationship. _Did he want them to? How would this even work? Could they do long-distance?_

On the other side of the door, after making a final, futile attempt at smoothing her rumpled suit, Kim took a deep breath and walked through. Her face set in a careful neutral expression she searched the crowd. When her eyes settled on Jimmy she went from surprised to beaming with delight in less than a second. Suddenly, her mind star-wiped and she was fast-walking right at him. After a brief moment of hesitation he set off towards her as well.

Their bodies collided somewhere midway. Kim giggled, deliriously happy, her hands around his neck grasping fistfuls of his jacket. His arms went fast about her waist lifting her up a bit from the ground as he joined in her laughter.

She slowly pulled back and with one hand still on his right arm she gave him a sweeping look, admiring the view. He slimmed down, losing all his 'Saul fat', was wearing a pair of black jeans, shoes and a blazer with dark blue button downs. His hair was brushed mostly back and cut neatly and best of all, the moustache was gone. She happily exclaimed, “Look at you, Jimmy! You look amazing.”

Jimmy blushed and Kim’s smile widened, her lips teasing him gently, wordlessly. He gave a mock-exasperated huff and a playful roll of his eyes before he grabbed the handle of her small suitcase and started marching towards the parking lot. He looked back after a few steps when he noticed she wasn’t following only to see her grinning at him, practically skipping to catch up. She hooked her arms with his free one.

“How were your flights?” Small talk. _Safe choice._

“Oh God, don’t even get me started on that.” She soured a bit but was still holding onto him with a hint of a smile. “The one to Indianapolis was 4 hours and 40 minutes of two babies trying to outdo each other in screaming their lungs out. The second flight to Newark; habitual chair kicker digging his knees in my kidneys every time I was about to fall asleep. The overnight here? Obnoxious drunk guy ‘flirting’ with the stewardesses then finally falling asleep only to then proceed to snore like a pneumatic drill.”

Instead of compassion all she got was a laugh from Jimmy. “Bet you regret not taking Lilian up on her offer for that private jet.”

She gave him a nasty look overshadowed by her persistent smile. “You forgot your roots fast, McGill.”

She ate her words as he stopped in front of a 4x4 that looked like someone forgot to take out of the dryer in time. Then she noticed the emblem on the grill. “You’ve got another Suzuki?”

“Yeah. Your friend is gas--funny.” When she gave him a confused frown he motioned her to follow him to the back whilst explaining, “She claimed this was pretty much the only small 4x4 available in automatic that she could find.” On the back of the car a badge proudly announced its model: _Jimny_. Kim couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. Jimmy narrowed his eyes at her. “Birds of a feather, huh?”

After a shuffle at the back with Jimmy having to turn Kim around reminding her that the wheel was on the other side in this car so unless she wanted to drive she was heading for the wrong door, they hopped in.

With the click of her seatbelt Kim snapped back into reality. The real reason why she was here hit her like a tonne of bricks. Her bright eyes shuttered and her whole body stiffened.

Jimmy gave her a sympathetic look then proceeded to regale her with tales of the estate and its merry band of misfits on the drive down giving her time to steel herself for what was to come. And she was grateful for it. She even chuckled here and there at the more amusing stories.

At one point, whilst waiting at a red light, unthinkingly, she reached out and gently ran her hand through his hair under the pretence of fixing it and it was such an achingly familiar gesture he forgot to breathe for a moment. She noticed his reaction and quickly pulled her hand back, giving him a sheepish smile when he glanced at her. He merely shook his head and took her hand to give it a quick squeeze.

Lilian was understandably upset once the actual words of his brother’s passing were spoken. She stood propped by her large desk in her office with Kim standing in front of her. Behind Kim in a respectable distance Jimmy waited in silence.

Kim took out a hefty envelope from her purse and handed it over to Lilian who immediately started running through it. There were at least ten pages in there, double-sided.

“We could---” Kim motioned towards the door as Lilian’s eyes ran over the first page then quickly flipped through the rest. By page two she was chuckling and not really reading.

“No need. He actually mentions you in here.” Kim was truly surprised at that. Whilst Wikus was her main client for the last two years they’ve only met a handful of times and the man made sure to vex her every chance he could. They did not see eye-to-eye at all until very recently and she still wouldn’t have called him a friend.

Lilian dropped all but one of the pages on her desk, still smiling and fondly shaking her head. “The whole note is just a few lines. The rest is from his favourite boyhood book and a lot of nonsense... the bloody bliksem... It’s in Tswana.” She informed them as an apology for the delay and anything that might not make sense. “Here goes…”

_  
Sorry about the Tswana, just wanted to say a last fuck you to the guards. Hope you’ve had fun finding a translator, you dicks._

_My dearest Shelo,_

_It got worse. I don’t feel like myself at all most of the times and I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life._

_Tell Kim that I am sorry. I know, in the end, she understood why I gave her such a hard time but I probably could have gone around it differently._

_Oh and please bury me at Galeshewe. I might have forgotten to update my will._

_W_

Lilian turned to Kim for input. “Did he---?”

“We’ve done the update last May. He is on his way home.”

“Good. Thank you, Kim... For everything.” Kim gave her a firm nod. “Right. I have a call in a few minutes and back-to-back meetings afterwards. Kim, you are welcome to stay if you want. I could have one of the rooms prepared---”

Jimmy cut in with his offer. “She can stay at the cottage. This place is old and creepy.”

A smile snuck up on Lilian’s lips despite of everything. Firmly, but with a hint of amusement she insisted. “For the last time, Séamus, the house is not bloody haunted just drafty.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to be able to sleep at night, Doc.”

Pressed on time Lilian turned back to the person who really should make the decision. “Kim?”

“I’m not a fan of ghosts. No offence, Lilian.”

“Oh for…” The older woman groaned already regretting having these two around at the same time. “Out. Both of you.”

Jimmy’s little cottage was only a minute long car ride away from the main house, tucked away in the back of the estate in an area closed off for the public. It sat in the middle of a large clearing surrounded by a forest. Built of stone, from the outside the only sign of it being in the 21st century were the solar panels on the roof. Inside was a different story altogether; there was some country chique in there but with a very healthy dose of modern design and fittings. The whole place was similar in footprint to their old flat in Albuquerque but had two bedrooms: a master at one end of the L-shaped layout with a family bathroom next to it and a smaller guest bedroom at the other end opening from the living room, the one with the infamous fireplace.

After a short tour of the house Kim went to lie down for a bit. When she awoke a few hours later she found Jimmy in the kitchen sitting at the dining table with his laptop in the middle of a Skype call to somewhere in Africa.

He informed Kim that he had spent the last few hours putting together a wake of sorts for Wikus. He knew Lilian needed a swift closure having been stuck in grief for the last two years. Kim just gave him a proud smile, ran a hand through his hair and kissed his forehead. “You are a wonderful man, James McGill.”

Held at the nearby pub, the wake was a celebration of life, mixing the happiest parts of the grieving process from all cultures present. And Kim went all in. She even sang some of the songs along with the South Africans. When Jimmy gave her a curious glance she shrugged. “What? Gisele was South African. I’ve done my research.”

“I wouldn’t have expected any less of you.”

About half an hour after Lilian had to leave Kim walked up to Jimmy chatting with the young stable boy, Patrick who immediately gave her a huge smile. They had previously been introduced by Jimmy who told the young lad that Kim liked horses. Patrick then proceeded to enthusiastically tell her about all their geldings and mares in great detail. Jimmy thought it was hilarious and liked himself a genius for setting her up, but Kim actually found it fascinating. The boy was obviously particularly knowledgeable when it came to horses.

“Can we walk home?”

“Uhm, sure.” Jimmy fished out his car keys from his front pocket and handed it to Patrick. “Just park it by the House. I’ll pick it up after work. Thanks, Pat.”

“No worries, Mr McGill!” Patrick replied raising his coke in a salute. “Goodnight, Mr and Mrs McGill!”

Kim saw Jimmy stiffen, his mouth opening no doubt to correct the boy. She just smiled and wished the boy goodnight as well then grabbed Jimmy’s arm and steered him out of the pub through the back door. The fresh air hit them sobering them up a bit. Not that either of them drank too much to begin with.

He finally turned to Kim. “Do you mind taking some of the back roads?”

When she shook her head he lead her up the nearby lane leading towards the estate then took a right off of it into what looked suspiciously like someone’s garden.

“Jimmy, are we trespassing?”

“Don’t worry it’s way past Mrs Franklin’s bedtime.”

“Do I want to know why you are aware of old ladies’ bedtimes?”

“She’s 45.” Kim’s steps faltered as one of her eyebrows shot up. Jimmy scrambled. “Has insomnia so she is on some pretty hefty meds.” Kim continued giving him that look, now very curious where this story was going. “She’s recently widowed and was struggling to cope. Their farm is adjoining ours so Patrick, some of the other boys and I come around to help from time-to-time. Last I’ve heard Lilian’s brought her out so she’s moving soon and Captain Africa will finally get her helicopter pad.”

And here Kim thought life in rural Ireland was uneventful. She just shook her head in disbelief smiling to herself.

“Here.” Jimmy pointed to a narrow clearing between two tall trees and a lot of foliage near the back of Mrs Franklin’s garden. It looked like a small green archway barely wide enough for a small car that led through to the green lane winding along the nearby plots.

Kim was in her element jumping over gates with ease and glancing up at the clear sky above them with a fond smile on her face. She even climbed some farm equipment at the side of a cattle barn just to be able to take a peak at the slumbering cows through a high window. When she spotted the inhabitants she got giddy and enthusiastically motioned Jimmy over to join her on her perch which he reluctantly did, muttering about being able to smell the manure just fine from his previous position further away.

With a hushed voice she exclaimed, “Look, highland cattle!”

She pointed at the three long-haired cows resting in the far right corner of the barn. The ones Jimmy had seen plenty of times before. “Uhm, yeah.”

“Do you know their names?”

“Breakfast, lunch and dinner?”

“Jimmy!”

“I’m sorry, are you planning on striking up a conversation with them?” As he raised his voice she shushed him immediately with a finger to his lips. He quietly inquired, his words slightly muddled thanks to her finger. “Why are we whispering?”

“Because they are asleep.” The logic was solid, as it should have been coming from a lawyer of her calibre, and yet it made Jimmy laugh out loud, well, quiet because Kim plastered a hand over his mouth the moment he started.

With a final wave Kim said goodbye to the cows then jumped back down to the ground with ease. When Jimmy hesitated she extended a hand to him, helping him make his much less dignified descent.

Once they were out of earshot of the barn Jimmy bumped her shoulder with his walking alongside her. “I never knew you were such a culchie--a country girl.”

“It’s not really something you’d associate with high-powered attorneys.” She looked around, taking in their surroundings painted in various shades of blue by the Moon. “I’ve always missed it. The people, the serenity, the clean air, how things don’t have to move so fast all the time.”

“And the occasional smell of manure.”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot about that.” She went silent for a bit. All those things that needed to be said floating in her head, fighting to be finally verbalised. “Do you miss being a lawyer?”

“Oh no. Not at all... Chuck was right.” Now that was a sentence Kim never thought she would ever hear again. “It just wasn’t for me.”

That sounded familiar. Then she remembered the hotel, the pool, the birth of Gisele. The now familiar wave of guilt hit her, its force never failing to sweep her off her feet and take her to dark places. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you and pushed you right back in.”

“Kim. I was coming off a one week binge in the city of sunroofs and other bad decisions after learning that my brother, the only man I’ve ever looked up to, have blackballed me and thought me worthless. I think it was a fair assumption on your part that I was just freaking out.” When he put it like that she couldn’t help but agree. “And somehow I don’t think floating away in a pool would have led to a more honest life.”

“Maybe you would have found what you really wanted to do.”

“Maybe.” He conceded but not really. “Or I could have made an even bigger mess. We’ll never know.”

Jimmy patted his pockets looking for his keys. With a triumphant ‘ha!’ he fished them from his blazer’s pocket then proceeded to open the cottage’s front door letting Kim go in first.

Something still weighed heavy on her heart. “I’ve just assumed you wanted the same things I did.”

He took her jacket then held out his hand so she could hold on whilst removing her boots. “You and me both. I mean, going through law school in my thirties, trying to pass the bar three times. All that and more screamed I wanted to be a lawyer, because at the time I did. For all the wrong reasons, but I did.” With his shoes and blazer off he turned back to her with a smirk. “Now I know my only ambition was to get into your pants.”

“Jimmy!” She protested with a grin following him into the kitchen as their conversation flowed on.

“Seriously, Kim. I knew that our days of bonding over licking stamps were numbered and I didn’t want to lose you. You were the only bright spot in that windowless, drone existence.” He took two beers from the fridge, opened them and handed her one.

They sat on the couch side-by-side with Kim pulling her left foot underneath her so she could turn sideways, left arm propped up on the back of the sofa. “I wouldn’t have ditched you just because you weren’t a lawyer.”

He leaned back and turned his head towards her. “Of course you wouldn’t have. But I’ve had zero self-confidence back then. Without a doubt I’d have imploded our relationship if I ever even got to asking you out.”

Jimmy’s adrenaline from the walk and from the anxiety over Kim’s arrival was slowly wearing off. That and something about the warmth of the house and finally having her here and starting to actually believe she was not just a figment of his imagination, he started to feel his muscles relaxing, his whole body becoming weightless and...he was so about to nod off. But he couldn’t. Kim was here, on his couch. He had to keep talking to her. He had to know.

“What about you? What’s next for Kim Wexler? Any big cases lined up?”

She looked down at her beer with a thoughtful expression. She hadn’t really thought about this. Never really dared to because the answer always lingered at the back of her mind and it often scared her. _Was that really her?_ But sitting here with Jimmy, so comfortable, so right, she let the answer finally crystalise.

“I don’t know if I can return to the law after this.” That woke Jimmy up. “Justice; it’s all about money and politics, filling private prisons and police quotas and nothing about rehabilitation. I’m becoming more jaded with each passing year. The law’s very different from what it used to be when we’ve started. Or maybe I was just young and naive.”

“Or maybe California is just a legal hellhole.” She could not argue with that.

“Either way, my heart is no longer in it. I’m just... exhausted.”

“So you’d just give it all up?” A few months ago just the prospect of giving up a job making $300k would have sounded utterly ridiculous to him. Now, he started to understand there were more important things in life.

“I proved to myself that I could do it. In the end, that’s all that matters.” He nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to continue just because I’ve put so much work into it.”

“Have you-- you thought about what you’d want to do?” He tried - and failed - to not sound too hopeful.

“Early retirement?” She tried it on her tongue her eyes fluttering up to meet his.

“Ha! You’d go stir crazy in a week of not doing anything.”

“I don’t know... I do have my painting. It would also be great to try surfing during the day.”

“Surfing? You surf? Just how---are you--how California are you?” He blabbered, his eyelids heavy, his brain shorting out. “Sorry.” And on cue he yawned. “Jesus Christ, I’m tired. Probably shouldn’t have drank.” He put his barely touched bottle on the coffee table and stayed slightly hunched over, his eyes barely managing to stay open. “--haven’t slept much...last night...Anxious.”

She put a hand on his back and pushed a little. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

They made it to his bedroom with him almost walking into the wall only once. She pushed him on his bed and watched him sway. _Buttons_ , he reminded himself and fumbled with the one at his throat.

“Here, let me.” Kim’s hands pushed his away and started unbuttoning his shirt, her nimble fingers brushing his chest in the process. _Oh, that felt nice._ When it was time for his jeans he quickly collected enough strength to stand and shuck it himself but she still had to wrangle it off of his legs. Next thing he knew, his head was on his pillow and she was pulling the sheets over his body.

“Stay,” he managed to mutter and she swore her heart stopped beating.

“Jimmy...”

“We’ll leave room for Jesus...Promise,” he mumbled and got a chuckle out of her. “I can’t--- don’t want to wake up to an empty bed.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t even leave the room just walked to his wardrobe that was covering an entire wall. _Some things never change_ , she thought before opening it, only to find that most of the thing was completely empty. He had a few button up shirts, all a shade of blue, black or white with a few blazers. At the bottom there was a small dresser drawer with his underwear, t-shirts and jumpers. Not a single trace of garish colours anywhere. In the third drawer she found what she was looking for: his university jumper. She cast a look behind her back seeing Jimmy already dead to the world she quickly took her jeans, blouse and bra off then slipped on the jumper and one of Jimmy’s boxers.

Once in the bed she took the time to just look at him in the moonlight, her gaze caressing the new lines on his face. He still looked achingly handsome and she felt a bone-deep yearning borne of 19 years of love pulling her towards him. Before she could talk herself out of it she placed a hand on his bare chest, feeling his warmth, his heart beating underneath her palm, she gingerly leaned over and kissed his thin lips. It was a feather-light touch yet it had the power to make her tremble in her whole body. He drew in a sharp breath his eyes blinking open, his hand quickly coming to rest on top of hers. He was still pretty much asleep but that did not stop him from treating her to a shy, half-smile and she couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “I love you, Jimmy.”

His smile widened a bit then he murmured back, “‘love you…” And he was fast asleep again.

Kim woke up with a feeling of bliss flowing through her body, her brain rewarding her with happy feelings for not waking it up abruptly with an alarm. Then she remembered that she wasn’t alone in this bed and her eyes popped open. Jimmy was already up but just barely, eyes still hazy, left side of his lips turned up in a small smile and looking adorably dishevelled.

“Hey,” he rasped.

That voice was doing dangerous things to her. She knew they still had a few rather important things to address. She wanted to do this properly. Her hand, however, did not seem to get the memo and reached out to him on its own accord. It softly slid from his temple, down his cheek into his stubble, enjoying the scratchy texture. The entire time she felt a huge grin nearly splitting her face. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips giving her a heated look as he kissed her knuckles then moved on to her wrist. She closed her eyes to savour the sensation, something between a moan and a gasp escaping her lips as his nose tickled the sensitive skin of the inside of her wrist.

He didn’t need much more encouragement than that and in a split second she found herself underneath his warm body. Their lips duelling in a hungry kiss, hands running all over any skin they could touch.

This had always been the case. Whilst they struggled to find the words, their bodies never had an issue communicating, finding a mutual language and understanding with startling ease.

Before they could get too carried away Jimmy’s phone blasted an annoying tone, demanding his attention. He froze above her, his head falling on the bed next to hers as he took a few deep breaths then with a frustrated groan he rolled to his nightstand to shut the thing off, tempted to hurl it across the room.

They laid there for a few seconds, side-by-side, both on their backs, just breathing.

“Jesus, Kim,” he exclaimed running a hand down his face.

“Haven’t left much room for him, have we?” She giggled at her own joke.

“No,” he agreed with an amused snort. “Sorry. I, ah, I have an important conference call in half an hour that I can’t miss.”

“That’s okay.”

He finally turned towards her, one of his eyebrows raised. With a light, teasing tone he asked, “Is it?”

She just smiled, shook her head then decided to be an adult and got out of the bed.

Jimmy only had time for a quick shower and shave before he had to dash out the door not to be late. As they stood in the hallway - him dressed for the day, her still in his jumper and boxers - he took a good, long look at her and thought, _I could get used to this._

“I’ll be back by two. We _will_ talk then.”

She practically pushed him out the door as they kept stupidly smiling at each other.

At 2pm Jimmy practically burst through the door of the Foundation ready to hop in his car and speed home. He was more than a bit surprised to see Kim - now in a long blue dress and leather motorcycle jacket - sitting nearby. She was perusing a guide of the House with one of the tour guides the seat next to her animatedly explaining some undoubtedly very boring aspect of the architecture.

“Hey,” he casually greeted the two women.

Kim looked up at him with a smile, “Hey.”

The way her whole face lit up as their eyes met had his stomach in a twist. _God, he missed that feeling._

“I hope Roisin hasn’t put you to sleep.” The young Irish woman was giving Jimmy a continuous stink-eye, clearly there was no love lost between the two.

“I’ve actually asked her a few questions and she was nice enough to take the time out of her day to answer me.” Kim turned back to Roisin with an appreciative smile handing back the brochure then she was back to staring up at Jimmy with the same dreamy look plastered on her face.

Noticing her third-wheel status Roisin took her leave. “Bye, Kim. Chinless Costner.”

They stayed like that for a few more beats, just basking in the other’s gaze before Jimmy extended a hand to her. “Come with me.”

She took his hand letting him pull her up from her seat, using the excuse to step a little closer than decent up to him. He froze for a moment then his nose scrunched up in slight disgust.

“You smell like a horse.”

“Get used to it,” she quipped her fingers giving his a playful squeeze.

He fondly shook his head and decided to keep her hand in his as he started pulling her marching them along the length of the House. It was just something practical, to make sure he wouldn’t lose her as they dodged the occasional, blind as a bat tourist groups; nothing more. _Absolutely, nothing more._

“Where are we going?”

He was walking with a purpose, at times dragging her a bit. He never really cared for the pompous interiors and they were even more boring by now. Kim on the other hand still marvelled at the scale and beauty. 

He turned slightly and gave her a wink. “I’ll show you something Roisin wouldn’t.”

“What’s your deal?”

“Ah, she’s just miffed because Patrick and I won last week’s pub quiz. Sore loser that youngwan.” Deciding on her having the right idea with small talk he asked, “So, what have you been up to? Besides learning about palladian architecture?”

“Went for a walk to clear my head. Thinking about stuff.” He _‘hmm’_ ed in acknowledgement curious what ‘stuff’ was but let her get to it on her own if she wanted to. The large pause indicated she did consider sharing just then but decided that the setting might not be ideal. “Patrick took me to Margaret for lunch... Met Sean. He showed me the stables--”

“Sean?” He gave her an incredulous look.

“Yeah, Sean. Tall, brooding guy, ginger beard. Sean. He is called Sean, no?”

“Oh yes, he is. It took me six months before he allowed me to call him anything other than Mr Ferguson or Sir... That grumpy old gimp.”

“Weird. He had nothing but good things to say about you.” Looking at where they were going instead of her Jimmy completely missed her teasing tone and froze mid-step.

“He did?” Finally turning to Kim he realised she was just pulling his leg and narrowed his eyes at her.

“He is a lovely man. Did you know he served in the cavalry for 22 years?”

By this time they were at the other end of the House taking the West wing’s massive stairs down to the ground floor.

“You know they don’t go to war on horses anymore, right?” Kim rolled her eyes. “Hey, just making sure before you make a hasty decision about your new career.”

They got to the bottom of the stairs with a small hallway to their left, a ‘no entry’ sign hung between two bollards in their way with just enough space to squeeze past. Which Jimmy did and with hands still clasped Kim had no choice but to follow. “Jimmy, are we supposed to be back here?”

“I live here, remember?” With a final brush of their fingers he let her hand go and started punching in the code on the alarm by the door.

Someone was coming down the stairs behind them, the sound of walkie-talkie chatter echoing through the halls. When Jimmy pretty much shoved Kim inside she had the sneaking suspicion they were indeed not supposed to be back here. Her adrenaline induced giggle died down as soon as he quickly shut the door behind her and they were suddenly enveloped in complete darkness. The room they’ve entered was in the middle of the house and had no windows at all, but Kim knew the smell surrounding them without having to see: books. Very old books.

Jimmy got his phone out to use it as a flashlight and went to fiddle with a door nearby. That small light provided enough illumination for Kim to see the sheer scale of the room. Two stories with books covering all the wallspace as far as she could see. She stood next to Jimmy to be able to look at some of the titles. “Wow, some of these books must be older than our United States.”

Jimmy gave her a non-committal, unimpressed grunt. He had a ring of at least ten keys he was going through, trying each in the lock. When one finally opened the door he yelped triumphant and cracked it slightly open, standing aside, motioning for Kim to go through first.

Hesitantly she stepped through and it took her eyes a few moments to adjust at which point her jaws dropped. “Oh wow!”

This room had the same ceiling height as the adjacent library but it also had windows. A lot of them, starting at waist height going all the way to the ceiling and all facing South. Despite the gloomy day outside the whole place felt like it was swimming in light. It was also almost completely empty and used as storage for a few stray pieces of furniture.

“Right? So, what do you say?” She turned to him confused. “Perfect room for a studio, isn’t it?”

“A studio?”

“For your painting.”

Her eyebrows knitted fondly her brain already working out his angle. “Does Lilian know you are giving away a part of her house?”

“Technically it’s the Foundation’s. But it’s not like she can say no to me.” Kim merely snorted in response knowing exactly just how untrue that statement was. “So what do you say?”

Finally, she decided to be direct. This was as good a place as any. “Jimmy. Is this your way of asking me to stay?”

“If you want to.” When she didn’t answer right away he looked away for a bit and dug his hands in his jean’s pockets. His insecurity was still there but he pushed through, looking straight into her questioning blue eyes. “Kim. I still can’t believe that you are here...After everything...I thought I’ve lost you for good.”

The breath stuttered out of her. “Jimmy---”

He took her hand and walked them to one of the large windowsill to sit down side-by-side. “I’ve tried to stop loving you but it never worked. The only thing that kept me going was telling myself you were happier without me.” 

“I wasn’t.” She admitted, because she didn’t want to just assume he knew. “I’ve buried myself in work and that helped me ignore the hurt for a long time. But when dad…” He stared at the floor studiously. “Let’s just say after a very, very drunk rendition of ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ in a karaoke bar full with University of Nebraska students I've realised that I may not have been as over you as I told myself I was.” Jimmy winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I---” 

She ran one of her hands up and down her thigh a few times. He was studying her carefully, letting her take her time, reminding himself not to read into her silences and especially not to barge in and try and tell her what she was feeling or thinking.

“All cards on the table, no holding back?” she suggested and he nodded. “First thing first: I need you to know that I love you, Jimmy. I’ve loved you from the day you’ve walked into my life and made it so much more interesting and…colourful.” He looked down and away from her intense gaze. When he looked back his eyes were glassy, brimming with unshed tears. “I do want to be part of your life. I realised that as I was sitting at my dad’s bedside…” He held his breath, a niggling thought in the back of his mind - the part he had worked hard to change - kept repeating that there was a ‘but’ coming, one that he deserved. “And I do want to give us another try. That one I’ve admitted to myself after our talk last night so this is still fresh... Bear with me.” 

Hope sparked in his chest. “Okay.”

“Back then...I think we were both afraid of rocking the boat and just stopped having honest conversations, because that would have led to a confrontation and possibly upsetting or worst losing each other. How do you see it?”

“I know I was deathly afraid of losing you. That one day you’d finally see the loser I really was.” He scoffed at that. “All those negative thoughts...and then of course I’ve just projected that to everyone around me. Especially you. Basically forcing you to walk around eggshells... And then of course there was the whole Chuck thing, and my dad... and my mom...” 

Kim joined in on the long list. “...And me undervaluing and hence never sharing my feelings then resenting you for it. And never asking for help. And, God, I could go on but it’s safe to say we’ve had no idea what we were doing and it didn’t help that our lives were exploding around us.”

Jimmy’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “I never knew you can just talk about your feelings. Shit, I had no idea how to put a name on half the things swirling in here. When I’ve finally got to thinking about us, by the time I was done, all I had left was a fucktonne of regret and a love that I know will stay with me for the rest of my life.”

“I believe we’ve come to the same conclusion then.”

“Look at us, all wise in our old age.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m not old.” Kim protested playfully. “We have been doing really well lately, though. Haven’t we? With the phonecalls and all that.” 

Whilst he was nodding she noticed he got a bit stiff, hesitant. “What is it, Jimmy?”

“I-- I still have a few months on the pills and then...Hopefully this will stick but it might not...Shit, there were some pretty dark turns along the way and I-- I promise I’ll tell you about them some other time. Soon.” He took her hand in his, their fingers sliding together with ease, finding the perfect hold. “I need you to promise me you will never hold anything back again. Not even if you see me struggling. You need to tell me when you’re not okay. We cannot stop talking.”

“I’ll do my best.” They both knew she couldn’t make that promise. Change took time. The fact she was honest about it just made rolling that heavy stone, that was there for months now, off his heart that much easier. “How about we stick to our daily call schedule, only face-to-face now? Everything free game.” 

“Sounds good.” Then he made a suggestion that even a year ago he knew would have never enter his mind, let alone get past his lips. “And if things get rough. And I say _if_. The church has a couples group. As long as you can ignore a few disapproving glances for being an unmarried, childfree woman of reputable age.”

She swatted him lightly for that. “Asshole.”

“So? A fresh start?”

“Hell yeah!” She exclaimed.

“Good,” he exhaled, that little, unsure but happy smile returning to his lips. The one that looked so much like when she told her _‘one thing had nothing to do with the other.’_ And her heart sped up again.

“Jimmy. In the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you something.” He looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes, vulnerable. “There’s this little injustice that I don’t think I can ever ignore.” She saw him tense up a bit and decided to have mercy on him letting a sultry smile bloom on her lips. “You’ve aged like fine wine.”

And there it was, his cheeks coloured again making him even more irresistible. With a dry, relieved chuckle he countered, “Have you looked into a mirror lately?”

It was Jimmy who leaned in first, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, languid in its pace just savouring the moment, the rightness of it all. Kim’s right hand settled behind his neck, slipping into the hair on the back of his head, caressing, scraping. Her other hand gripped the front of his shirt, her fist tightening and loosening along the passion pulsing through her body.

Jimmy’s hands cradled her cheeks taking gentle control, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, their kiss deepening in a unified sigh. His right hand dropped and grabbed Kim’s thigh, swiftly pulling her closer with her legs over his. She was nearly sitting in his lap as they got more and more lost in each other.

At one point Jimmy moved to stand in front of the windowsill between Kim’s parted legs peppering small kisses along the column of her throat his hands caressing her legs, one of them slowly inching the hem of her dress upwards. Then Kim’s right hand slid to rest against his belt buckle. In two beats of their racing hearts her other hand joined in and they were undoing his belt. After that, it was all a mess of buttons opening, dress getting bunched up, jeans pushed down and a quick completion to what they started in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hinky Dinky strike did in fact happen in ‘84. The whole story is pretty much straight from Wikipedia and some other random websites. All I did was insert Kim in it because organising a strike sounds like a Kim thing to do.


	5. Faerie tale ending

Near the border of County Wicklow and Kildare stood a quaint, stone building, its parking lot often full with cars from all over the two counties and Dublin. At the side of the road, a massive - at least four metres tall - shopping basket filled with various fruits veggies and a baguette signified the road entering the premises.

Inside the building, amongst the walls painted with illustrations of the items near them two people meandered in the aisle filled with vegetables on tables and shelves. One of them Mrs O’Dowd, an elderly regular, the other: Jimmy McGill hunched over in an uncomfortable angle in order to be able to walk arm-in-arm with her as she always insisted on hooking her arms with his, claiming this was the only time she could walk around with such a handsome thing on her arm.

“Could you show me that list again, Mrs. O’Dowd?”

“Here you go, dear.” She handed him several A4 papers that he quickly skimmed to remind himself of the contents.

“Christ, it would have been easier for him to print a list of what you _can_ eat.”

It took them the better part of an hour to put together a basket full with things that the lady’s doctor would approve of and Jimmy added a few printouts of some new recipes for her to try out before sending her off, helping her tackle the small, single stair leading out of the store. “Bye, Mrs. O’Dowd! See you next Wednesday!”

He made sure she wasn’t looking anymore before he righted himself with a wince. Just as he was about to try and reach the painful spot in his back, two hands dug in at just the right place making him groan in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Jimmy exclaimed earning a giggle from Kim, her forehead resting momentarily between his shoulder blades. He enjoyed the impromptu massage for a while before he spoke again, “How did it go with Cian?”

“Turns out I’ve managed to get him the Aldi deal so not only will he not raise prices for us, he will get us some of his best stock and throw in the occasional donation.”

He turned his head to be able to look at her behind him. His fond, proud smile ready on his lips. “You are very good at this business thing. Partner.”

He still remembered asking her a little over three years ago now. “Wanna open a farm shop with me?”

Without a moment of hesitation she said, “yes.”

There was a Farmers’ Market every Saturday from 8 am till 14 near the estate’s visitors’ car park. Jimmy and Kim done most of their shopping there with Jimmy already knowing every single farmers’ life story including how much of a pain it sometimes was to haul their stuff from market to market to sell it. He had the idea brewing in him for a while when one day he had just asked Kim. With her behind him they got everyone signed up and bought the estate’s abandoned workshop near the main road to renovate.

Most of the times Jimmy manned one of the tills and every regular knew that if you were in a hurry you queued at the other one. The buzz very soon followed as the locals turned their backs on the Tesco Extra up in Naas in favour of being on first - or with the elder folk last - name basis with the charming Séamus McGill.

As business grew they had a few local lads and lasses helping out. Most had been in some trouble with the law before ending up in their store. A few tried to scam the golden-hearted Mr McGill only to be very surprised when their scheme was cut short by the owners and then were even more surprised when they could keep their jobs afterwards. 

For the customers who did not have a car or couldn’t drive or just simply couldn’t make it outside that often anymore, there was a free home delivery service ran every week in the area. Normally, the route should have taken two hours tops but the van rarely returned before lunchtime when Jimmy was doing the rounds.

It was only a few years after the recession peaked in Ireland, many still struggled and Kim came up with the idea of running a small food bank alongside their regular business. She had no trouble talking some of the more well-to-do customers into donating money and some of the suppliers to participate as well.

These days, when the rare urge took him over, when the scheming started in his brain, when people turned into pawns in front of his eyes Jimmy reached for another ring - a real golden one -, not on his pinky but a finger over. The words of his wife - his partner in life and in business - floated in his head: _Jimmy, if you get into trouble and leave me alone to run this madhouse, I swear to God I’ll strangle you before they have a chance to put the cuffs on you_. From empirical evidence he knew that the threat of the death penalty did not and should not work, yet, for him it did.

 _His wife_ , he smiled to himself. Maybe there really was something to be said about the third time being the charm. He still remembered clearly, the day he had asked her.

They took the walk down from their cottage to the workshop to check on the renovation’s progress. As they exited their home he pulled out a grey paddy cap from his jacket pocket and put it on.

“Hey, look what I’ve got.”

She so wanted to make fun of it, maybe even gently tease him about his insecurity; yes, his hair was thinning and it had turned almost completely white now with just hints of sand left in it but she had no issue with it. In fact, she kinda loved the white. Her giggle died down abruptly as she took a good look at him.

“This isn’t funny when you’re actually pulling it off,” she mock grumbled, then just because she could she grabbed his face and gave him a searing kiss letting him know just how much she really liked it. She was still amazed at how easily he had fit in here. The accent was still terrible though.

A few hours later when they were walking back for lunch Sean was outside walking one of the horses, on his head a cap identical to Jimmy’s. “Are you fekin’ havin’ a laugh, McGill?” 

Kim burst out laughing and she was still giggling as they entered their cottage a few minutes later. “God, my sides hurt from laughing so much.”

It was one of those moments of clarity, Jimmy finally noticed how happy she looked and realised she had been like that for months. And then he realised his sides hurt too.

He wanted to do it properly this time, not just through an off-handed comment. It should be a special occasion, he should be prepared, but this felt too much like the right moment. Kim didn’t like grand gestures anyhow. So whilst she busied herself trying to get her boots off balancing on one foot, her right hand struggling with the zipper, the left clutching his arm so she wouldn’t fall on her face, he took a deep breath and blurted out, “Kim. Will you marry me?”

Her grip tightened on his arm as she went still, her boot sliding off her foot unceremoniously. She stood upright, completely taken aback, searching his eyes. Whatever she was looking for in there she must have found because the next second a huge smile nearly split her face. He barely had time to enjoy how she had practically lit up before she jumped in his neck and kissed him with a ferocity that was still new to them, one that came from truly sharing their lives.

Two days later they were to visit the Civil Registration Service to give notice to the Registrar of their intent to marry. Jimmy was busy clearing away their plates from breakfast thinking Kim snuck off to start getting ready only to be startled when she turned up behind him. She handed him a piece of paper that he recognised was from his sketchbook. The page was full of his drawings of fruits and vegetables: some of his final designs of their shop’s logo. In the first few designs he was trying out the text: _Wexler & McGill_. Towards the bottom he spotted a new version that simply said:

_McGills’_

Kim was never the girl who sat in class dreaming about marrying some famous actor or the school’s star quarterback. There were no doodles in her notebooks with hearts and her initials with someone else’s - or horses for that matter. But this, it just felt right.

He looked up from the paper back at her seeing her wide smile and glassy eyes. There was an unasked question on his face and she just nodded. He yanked her into a bone crushing hug both of them laughing, carefree, joyful tears running down their cheeks. 

They got married three months later, only because that was the soonest the law allowed them. If it were up to them they would have done it that weekend. They did joke about forging the marriage certificate to bring the date forward but it stayed that, a joke.

Their wedding was a small, private affair on the estate’s grounds with only the Registrar and some of the staff as guests. Kim wore a flowy red dress with small white patterns and a crown made of wildflowers in her hair, he wore a slate blue suit - single breasted - a grey shirt and a permanent smile that only trembled as he cried happy tears when she finally said: _I do._

Days later when the the large basket statue arrived complete with the sign that simply read: _McGills’_ , they stood nearby with Jimmy’s arm around Kim’s shoulder. They watched it being lifted in place, silently reflecting on how they got here.

His dad would have been so proud. And maybe even Chuck. But what mattered the most was that he was. And Kim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my little, hopeful (naive) ending to BCS. Now here's to hoping that the writers won't stomp on our hearts too much with their own - no doubt a tad darker - conclusion. I will not hold my breath...


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